


with a hunger to live.

by Idnis



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2019, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Autumn, Festivals, M/M, Magic, Mystery, Or is there?, Sharing Clothes, Small Towns, SpoOOooOpy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:12:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18011561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idnis/pseuds/Idnis
Summary: Black Creek, Georgia, was supposed to be a new beginning.It wasn't supposed to be a flash of orange, swollen bruises, and blue eyes.It wasn't supposed to be... this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bookhangover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookhangover/gifts).



> Hello lovely people!
> 
> It's been a while!! I haven't seen you since last year :O I hope the new year is treating you all right so far ♡
> 
> So I finally, FINALLY, was able to write a fic for the amazing [cats-are-assholes](http://cats-are-assholes.tumblr.com/) (yeah, that's you Val ♡), based on her [beautiful art piece](http://cats-are-assholes.tumblr.com/post/183249488164/its-finally-time-for-the-aftgreverse-the) that you should totally check out on her tumblr (and reblog and like it) :D 
> 
> Also! This fic is beta'd by the superduper sweet [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexjosten)!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

                                                                                    

 

* * *

  
Trees didn’t really look like trees when they flew by so fast.  
  
They were just a green blur,  
a wash of colour,  
an idea.  
  
It didn’t help that rain was hammering down on the car and sliding down the windows. It made everything even more distant. More of an idea than something real.  
  
Music blasted loudly through Andrew’s headphones, drowning out Nicky’s trashy music.  
Nicky’s car, Nicky’s music.  
Fair enough.  
Andrew would blast his music out of the speakers too, if he had a car.  He could already envision it. A sleek, black thing that devoured miles like sugary cereal.  
  
Every once in a while, they hit a bit of bad road and the car jostled and its inhabitants jostled. Aaron’s leg would press lightly against Andrew’s when that happened,  
which was annoying.  
  
The car was simply too small.  
  
Andrew had offered to put furniture between them in the backseat, but Nicky had said, “ _Absolutely not. It’s a three hour drive. You need to be comfortable.”_  
  
Yet here he was.  
Uncomfortable.  
  
Not so much because of the small car or Nicky’s music or Aaron’s leg.  
  
Andrew stared outside the rain streaked window at the idea of trees.  
At the idea of moving away from a big city,  
to live in the middle of god knew where.  
  
It had been an idea for so long that Andrew thought Nicky would never have the balls to actually see it through, but then Nicky had returned one day with papers clutched into his hands and a bright, new future in his eyes.  
  
“ _No more bad memories!”_ he’d exclaimed. “ _We’re starting anew!”  
_  
So far,  
anew looked blurry and bleak.  
  
Andrew wasn’t impressed.  
Neither was he by the song blaring through his headphones.  
He picked up his phone and hit _next_. A softer song started, one with low tones and violins and drums. Andrew didn’t recognise it.

When had he put this in his playlist?  
  
They hit another hole in the road  
and the car jostled badly.  
  
Aaron fell harshly against Andrew, pressing him against the door, Andrew’s head hitting the cold window.  
The trees were suddenly much closer.  
  
‘Nicky, what the fuck!’ Aaron complained, his voice muffled by the low, vibrating tones of the violins in Andrew’s ears.  
  
The car slowed down, and then curved off the main road.  
  
Andrew stared at the green and brown turning into more solid shapes, into something that resembled trees. Something real.  
Yet they were still brown and green and brown and green and brown and green and—  
Orange.  
  
A small shape flitted through the trees.  
Bright orange. And white.  
And it was keeping up with the car.  
  
_What the—_  
  
Andrew sat up and peered through the heavy rain at the forest.  
  
It was like watching an old movie, like clicking rapidly through photographs until it resembled a video.  
Which meant it didn’t look real,  
the fox running beside the car.  
  
Andrew stared at it.  
  
They didn’t have animals in the big city, and he’d never really gone to a zoo or even watched nature documentaries. He didn’t know shit about foxes.  
  
Still. Why was it trying to keep up with the car?  
  
A sudden, harsh jab in his side.  
  
Andrew tore his headphones off and glared at Aaron. ‘ _What_.’  
  
‘I was talking to you,’ Nicky said, ‘but you didn’t hear. But look outside, Andrew!’ The car shook as they drove towards something that looked like houses. Like a town. ‘We’re here! Our new beginning!’  
  
Yet Andrew turned away from the red and dark grey houses  
and peered at the last of the trees.  
  
Just brown and green.  
  
🌑  
  
The sign said, _Welcome to Black Creek, Georgia_  
and Nicky said, ‘Welcome to Black Creek, Georgia!’  
and Erik said, ‘Andrew and Aaron, can you help me carry these boxes?’  
and Aaron said, ‘Can’t we wait until it’s stopped _pouring_?’  
  
But Andrew didn’t mind the rain.  
Nor did he know if he actually minded Black Creek, Georgia.  
All he knew was that moving to a small town wouldn’t magically solve their problems.  
  
Andrew jogged towards Erik, who was already unloading the small trailer behind the car, and immediately got two heavy boxes pushed into his arms.  
  
‘Erik!’ Nicky exclaimed, ‘I wanted to do a proud reveal of the house but now Andrew can’t see!’  
  
‘It’s raining too much for that, babe,’ Erik said. His arms were shaking under the weight of three boxes. ‘But you can unlock the door?’  
  
Andrew didn’t hear Nicky’s reply but when he walked past the white mailbox, through the fence and the overgrown front garden, he was greeted by an open door.  
Nicky immediately pulled him inside.  
  
‘Put them in the kitchen.’  
  
Andrew peeked past the boxes and was mildly surprised to see new furniture in the living room.  
  
Guess Nicky really wanted to do this right.  
A new beginning,  
new furniture.  
All he needed now was new cousins and he could really start afresh.  
  
But Andrew didn’t say those thoughts out loud.  
He could see the dreamy smile on Nicky’s face as he guided him to the beige kitchen.  
  
‘Just put them here. Yes, thank you.’  
  
‘I’m so wet!’ Erik exclaimed as he ran into the house.  
  
‘Gross,’ Aaron said, following close behind. He was carrying only one box, but it was something. ‘Keep your sex lives to yourself.’  
  
‘Good thing you’ll never need to worry about that ever again,’ Nicky preened. ‘This house has super thick walls. You’ll never know what’s going on.’  
  
‘Still grossed out.’  
  
Erik laughed and put his arm around Nicky. He pressed a kiss against Nicky’s forehead, which made Nicky smile his secret smile, and they looked so cute and right that it almost made Andrew angry.  
Almost.  
  
When he looked at his twin brother, he didn’t see the disgust or anger that had been there years ago. Instead, Aaron looked fakely exasperated and grossed out.  
  
Better.  
Still not good enough to tell everyone he was gay.  
  
🌑  
  
The rain didn’t seem to stop.  
  
Which was okay because after they’d moved everything inside,  
they still needed to fill all the new cabinets and shelves and wardrobes.  
  
When Andrew got sick of all the boxes,  
of placing the few belongings he had on grey shelves that still looked empty after,  
he walked up to Erik and said, ‘I want to paint my bedroom.’  
  
Erik pushed himself off the ground where he’d been busy shelving his books. ‘Let me grab my car keys and we can go to the store.’  
  
🌑  
  
When houses rolled past rain streaked windows,  
they also looked fake.  
  
They were blurs of red and dark grey,  
blurs of white trimming and white fences.  
Blurs of neat front gardens and sensible cars.  
  
At least,  
they were.  
  
Until they turned left on the main road  
and a big, dark building loomed in front of them.  
  
Everything looked pale and laughably cheap in comparison to the victorian mansion towering over the houses surrounding it.  
Even in the daytime it looked sinister.  
  
‘Woah,’ Erik said. ‘Look at that mansion. It’s like it’s from another time. Looks kinda Victorian, don’t you think?’  
  
The many high and narrow windows  
and the dark, cutting edges seemed to suggest so.  
  
‘I wonder what’s the history behind it,’ Erik said. ‘Houses like that always have some sort of gruesome story.’  
  
‘Maybe someone has been murdered,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Yeah! Or it was the home of witches.’  
  
‘Or devils.’  
  
‘Maybe a cult lives there!’  
  
Fuck.  
Erik was so nice.  
Andrew wanted so badly to be indifferent about him, and from the outside he _was_ .  
He’d even heard Erik voice his concern to Nicky that he thought Andrew didn’t like him.  
  
Well, better he think that than know what Andrew really thought.  
  
Namely that Erik not only saved Nicky,  
but maybe him and Aaron too.  
  
🌑  
  
They parked the car at the Home Depot on the outskirts of town.  
  
The depot wasn’t busy. A few people wandered around the light store. A mom with a child. Two kids. An elderly couple.  
And Erik and Andrew.  
  
‘Let’s see…’ Erik wandered into the main aisle, looking up at the signs. ‘Where’s the paints?’  
  
Andrew didn’t see it.  
  
After walking the entire main aisle up and down,  
Erik scratched his head in confusion.  
  
‘Guess I’ll ask someone? You see if you can find them sooner than me.’ He gave Andrew a smile that was so friendly it made Andrew feel like he was shopping with his fucking dad.    
  
Not foster father.  
  
He would never compare Erik to a foster father,  
because Andrew knew what it was like to have those.  
  
After Erik left in search of an employee, Andrew zigzagged through the aisles.  
It was how he found a small hallway leading to another, almost hidden, section.

The room was small,  
and contained all the colours known to mankind.  
  
The smell of paint was nearly washed out by the smell of the wooden shelves upon which they stood,  
and Andrew knew he’d get sick of the smell of wood before long.  
  
He longed for a cigarette, but he’d have to wait until he was home.  
  
Andrew wandered past the rows of paint. It wasn’t a question which colour he wanted to paint his room, so after indulging himself with wandering, he walked straight to the tin he wanted.  
  
Orange  
in the corner of his eye.  
  
Andrew turned,  
and saw a guy his age standing in the small hallway.  
Blocking the only way out.  
  
He was dressed in old jeans and a black hoodie that engulfed his everything.  
And yet a few auburn strands of hair escaped the blandness.  
  
Amidst all the paints,  
that orange looked so starkly real Andrew felt like blinking rapidly.  
  
He didn’t.  
  
He merely stared at the guy,  
who stared back.  
  
One of them had to give eventually,  
so Andrew put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head back, levelling the guy with an unimpressed, blank stare.  
  
The lights overhead flickered once.  
Twice.  
Thri—  
‘You’re new,’ the guy said.  
  
It sounded like an accusation.  
  
‘So?’ Andrew asked.  
  
‘We don’t get a lot of new people around here.’  
  
‘I wonder why,’ Andrew said. ‘Don’t tell me. Is it because you’re in the middle of fucking nowhere?  
  
The guy didn’t laugh,  
which was perfectly fine because it hadn’t been funny.  
  
Andrew had yet to see if Black Creek, Georgia, was not as boring as Columbia.  
  
He took a step forward,  
just to see if the guy would react.  
  
The reaction was disappointing.  
Flighty like an animal, the guy immediately took a step back.  
  
‘If you’re intimidating me, you’re doing a bad job,’ Andrew said boredly.  
  
‘I’m not,’ the guy said. ‘I’m warning you.’  
  
‘Oh, that sounds like a threat.’  
  
A huff of frustration was the most interesting reaction the guy had given Andrew so far.  
  
‘Fine,’ the guy said, annoyed. ‘Die for all I care.’  
  
Rather extreme.  
Not not-interesting.  
  
Suddenly, footsteps,  
and the warmth of Erik’s voice.  
  
‘Oh my god, you’ve hidden your paints well. I would’ve never found this, thank you.’ Erik paused as he noticed Andrew and the black hooded fucker. ‘I see you won our race,’ he said with a grin. ‘ _And_ made friends too? Wow, Andrew. New house, new you.’  
  
Ha-ha.  
  
But before Andrew could respond, there was  
orange  
in the corner of his eye  
and then the black hood disappeared around the corner.  
  
Gone from sight.  
  
‘Okay?’ Erik said, eyes following the guy before giving Andrew a questioning look. When Andrew didn’t respond, he shrugged. ‘So did you find a good colour?’  
  
🌑  
  
He’d just finished painting one wall when Nicky entered his bedroom.  
  
‘Andrew, do you need—’ Nicky paused. He stared at the wall. ‘Black? Andrew, _really?_ You know that’s gonna make your room feel smaller, and don’t get me started on getting up in the morning when it’s so dark and gloom—’  
  
‘Nicky,’ Andrew said. He bent down and put the lid back on the pot of paint. ‘I’m done painting.’  
  
Nicky opened and closed his mouth a few times, then looked around the room again.  
  
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Oh, okay. In that case, it’s not _that_ bad.’  
  
Nicky’s car, Nicky’s music.  
Andrew’s room, Andrew’s paint.  
  
But instead of arguing, Andrew started cleaning up the paint supplies.  
After a few seconds, Nicky joined him.  
They were done within mere moments.  
  
But Nicky wasn’t done.  
  
‘Tomorrow’s Monday,’ he said carefully.

‘I’m aware,’ Andrew replied. He sat on his bed that had been pushed towards the back of the room so he could safely paint.

‘So… School starts on Monday.’

‘It usually does.’  
  
Nicky fidgeted.  
But Andrew wasn’t going to make this easy.  
He’d already agreed without hesitation to follow Nicky’s _new beginning_. He’d agreed to follow Nicky to Black Creek, Georgia.  
  
‘Are you excited about a new school?’ Nicky asked. And not-asked him if he was actually going. Coward.

Andrew levelled him with a blank stare  
that eventually became too much for Nicky.  
  
Nicky sighed. ‘Look, Andrew. I know it’s shitty to start a new high school. Being the new kid fucking sucks. But I really think if we all try to, you know, _embrace_ this new beginning, I really think it could work out.’  
  
‘I’m not going to call you dad,’ Andrew said. And not-said that he would try.  
  
‘God, no,’ Nicky laughed, relieved. ‘Uncle Nicky sounds way cooler anyway.’  
  
🌑  
  
Despite the black wall, Andrew had no problem getting up the next morning.  
The problem had been falling asleep.  
  
🌑

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; "When Andrew stepped onto the dark blue gym floor,  
> his attention wasn’t drawn to the benches pushed against the wall,  
> but to the flash of orange in the corner of his eye."
> 
> So that's the premise!! 
> 
> I'm so excited to hear what you think! Do tell me if you want :) And thank you so, so much for reading ♡


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> It's Friday! Another week's over. It was very rainy and cloudy today, perfect weather for curling up on the couch with a cup of tea and a book. 
> 
> I can't give you a book (yet) so here's another chapter,  
> enjoy!

English.  
  
First subject of the day.  
  
Andrew walked through the hallway with its red lockers and fluorescent lighting and hundreds of students. Or more. Who knew.  
All Andrew knew was that every single one of them paused whatever they were doing  
and stared.  
  
He hated it.  
  
He was glad Aaron was in the science building.  
Imagine the stares if there’d been two new people at once.  
  
Ignoring everyone, Andrew walked over to the red door at the end of the hall and without checking if it was English, threw it open and went inside.  
  
There was only a handful of people already sitting in their seats.  
  
‘Is this English?’ Andrew asked.  
  
A girl in the back with pastel coloured hair spoke up. ‘Yes, it is.’  
  
She had the right idea, Andrew thought, and walked towards a free seat in the back.  
Fuck assigned chairs.  
Whoever sat here before was going to get stabbed if they so much as complained.  
  
He’d barely sat down when someone tapped his shoulder.  
  
Andrew didn’t turn around.  
  
The tap didn’t return.  
  
Eventually, after way too fucking long, the classroom started filling with more students.  
Andrew didn’t give any of them a second look.  
He didn’t want to catch someone’s attention and make them think he was looking for social interaction.  
  
Until someone stopped beside his desk and cleared his throat.  
  
Andrew glanced quickly at the grey sneakers,  
before he looked up boredly.  
  
Orange filled his vision,  
and ice-cold blue eyes pierced through him.  
  
The guy from the depot.  
  
Oh, fucking priceless.  
  
Andrew almost felt like laughing.  
Of all the seats in the room, he’d chosen _his_ .  
  
They stared at each other. Again.  
  
Andrew with amusement in his eyes,  
and the guy with a grimness that seemed too dramatic for a classroom and a seat and a stranger.  
  
Finally, the guy said, ‘Don’t die in my chair.’

He turned and sat in the seat in front of him.  
Quite literally turning his back on Andrew.  
  
How fucking stupid.  
  
Andrew had knives in his sleeves.  
Before the guy could even turn around, his throat could be slit. It would be a matter of a simple grab and slice.  
  
But the itch wasn’t there.  
If anything, a sort of growing curiosity had nestled itself in its place.  
  
Andrew didn’t like it.  
  
Neither did he like the way that orange filled his vision, no matter which way he looked;  
be it at the teacher,  
out the window,  
or down at his desk.  
  
Everywhere,  
just in the corner of his eye,  
was orange.  
  
Did he _want_ people to look at him?  
  
🌑  
  
When the bell rang,  
the guy in front of Andrew was on his feet within seconds.  
  
It was impressive,  
if not pathetic.  
  
‘Hey,’ a soft voice said from behind Andrew. It belonged to the pastel haired girl from before. ‘I can show you to your next class if you want?’  
  
Andrew gave her a once-over.  
His eyes stuck on the silver pentagram pendant dangling around her neck.  
Probably still stuck in her witch phase.  
  
‘No thanks,’ he said, and brushed past her.  
  
He could find gym class all on his own.  
  
🌑  
  
Where he hadn’t paid attention to anyone on his way to his first class,  
now Andrew shot everyone who so much as stared at him a glare.  
  
It worked in making them turn away,  
averting their eyes  
or quickly moving out of his way.  
  
But, like the laws of physics,  
when one force was more powerful than another,  
it bent everything around it to its will.  
  
People were moving the other way again, quickly,  
pressing themselves against lockers  
or in the case of some, waving shyly  
at the Asian guy walking through the middle of the path cleared for him.  
  
He was short,  
relatively good-looking if you fell for that sort of boy band look,  
and he radiated _danger_.  
  
It wasn’t the kind of danger Andrew might be attracted to though.  
  
It wasn’t the whole moth metaphor that was getting too old, really.  
It wasn’t the sort of danger that made your veins thrum, that made your blood and body feel alive.  
It was the kind of danger that killed you.  
  
Andrew stopped in the middle of the hallway,  
an unmovable object,  
and watched the unstoppable force move towards him and then stop.  
For now.  
  
‘Thought we’d done this already,’ the guy said. Andrew had expected his voice to be lower. ‘Except last time you moved away just before we could talk.’  
  
Andrew didn’t respond,  
just gave the guy a bored look.  
  
Posturing was boring.  
Especially from someone so small.  
  
‘And I see you switched clothes after first period,’ the guy continued talking, like he was used to people just listening to him. Andrew already itched to prove him wrong. ‘I think I preferred you neat.’  
  
‘Then don’t talk to me,’ Andrew said.  
  
The guy’s eyes widened,  
like what Andrew had said was an affront.  
  
He shook his head. ‘That would be rude.’  
  
‘Oh, is this you being nice?’  
  
The guy smiled.  
It looked horribly fake and practiced.

‘Apologies. You’re right. Where are my manners?’ He extended a hand. ‘I’m Riko Moriyama.’  
  
Andrew looked at the outstretched hand,  
then up at the dark expression on Riko’s face.  
Oh there was still a smile there, but it was a _warning_.  
  
Conform to my rules.  
  
Riko’s school,  
Riko’s rules.  
  
Except Andrew had barely tolerated Nicky’s car rules, and he sure as hell wasn’t giving an entire school to someone so small.  
  
‘I’m not interested,’ he said, and shouldered past Riko and the two big guys behind him.  

‘Careful Andrew.’  
  
The voice rang through the suddenly eerily quiet hallway.  
  
Everyone around them was holding their breath,  
because Riko wanted them to.  
  
Andrew nearly stopped walking,  
even though he didn’t want to, but it felt like his legs were tired from training, tired from hauling boxes, tired from turning away from Riko Moriyama.  
  
_What the fuck_.  
  
It was the hardest thing to keep walking,  
but Andrew gritted his teeth, dug his nails into the palm of his hand, and continued after only a small hesitation in his step.  
  
🌑  
  
His legs felt normal again when he reached the locker room.  
  
A few guys were already changing into their gym clothes, though they did more talking than changing.  
Andrew didn’t give them a second glance.  
  
He quickly chucked off his clothes,  
and by the time he was tying his shoelaces, the rest of his class had arrived and the locker room was echoing with hormones.  
  
Andrew put his hands in his hoodie and strolled out.  
He’d wait in the gym.  
  
But when he stepped onto the dark blue gym floor,  
his attention wasn’t drawn to the benches pushed against the wall,  
but to the flash of orange in the corner of his eye.  
  
He turned towards it,  
and there he was again.  
Talking to the gym teacher.  
  
The depot guy’s hands were balled into fists  
and everything about his stance looked like an exclamation mark.  
  
He looked angry.  
  
Andrew casually wandered over, without attracting their attention.  
  
‘I’m sorry, Mr. Josten,’ the gym teacher said, though she didn’t look sorry. ‘You can’t participate in those clothes.’  
  
‘I told you, I don’t have anything else to wear.’  
  
‘And I told you, smart mouth, that we have a box of spare clothes for instances just like these.’  
  
Andrew raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.  
He hadn’t pegged _Mr. Josten_ as someone who cared much about his clothes.  
  
And yet Andrew didn’t think his first impression was wrong.  
_What was_ —  
  
He stopped himself from finishing that thought.  
No.  
There was nothing interesting about that guy.  
  
‘Fine,’ Josten spat out. He sharply turned on his heel, and visibly startled when he noticed Andrew. ‘ _What?_ ’ he said angrily.  
  
But instead of answering, Andrew walked away towards the benches.  
  
There was _nothing_.  
  
Josten wasn’t interesting,  
and most importantly,  
none of Andrew’s business.  
  
🌑  
  
The entire class was already sitting on the benches, listening to the gym teacher explaining the exercises of the day.  
  
Slumped down, hands in his pockets and hood on, Andrew sat off to the side and only half-listened.

In the grand scheme of the _new beginning_ , listening to his gym teacher wasn’t that important.  
If this was boring, he might skip and go for a smoke anyway.  
  
Then,  
a flash of orange in the corner of his eye.  
  
It was only because Andrew was sitting to the side  
that he noticed it. Or rather, him.  
  
Quieter than someone could possibly move,  
Josten entered the gym and walked—no,  _sneaked_ to the benches.  
  
He was dressed in a grey shirt that was too big  
and black shorts that were a little too short,  
which meant absolutely _nothing_ hid the big, swollen bruises on Josten’s skin.  
  
Andrew stared.  
  
And the gym teacher said, ‘How nice of you to join us after all, Mr. Josten.’ She didn’t say _Mr. Josten_ like she meant it respectfully. ‘But I’m gonna need to mark you down as late.’  
  
But Josten didn’t care.  
He _couldn’t_ care.  
Not when he was trying so hard to hide himself in his own skin.  
  
His glare was burning a hole through the ground  
and his arms were wrapped so tightly around his chest that Andrew wouldn’t be surprised if they added even more bruises.  
  
‘Ew,’ someone to Andrew’s left whispered. A girl. ‘That looks so gross.’  
  
‘Right?’ someone answered. ‘Like, is he depressed or something?’  
  
‘Maybe he has issues.’  
  
The gym teacher clapped her hands. ‘Okay. Everyone grab a basketball and line up in front of the hoops.’  
  
A few guys cheered and immediately jumped to their feet, wanting to be first, but the rest was more reluctant.  
Or they wanted to stare at Neil,  
who hadn’t moved.  
  
‘Hey Josten,’ a guy called out. He took a swaggering step closer. ‘No wonder you were hiding all of that underneath your clothes. That looks real ugly.’  
  
Josten didn’t respond.  
  
Which the guy saw as permission to move even closer. A few guys followed him, but they kept their distance.  
Unlike that douchebag.  
  
‘Hey. Hey, Josten.’ The guy leaned forward, his face inches away from Josten’s. ‘Hey, does your dad beat you?’ he whispered loudly.  
  
‘Hey, that’s rude!’ one of his friends laughed. ‘You know he doesn’t have parents.’  
  
‘ _Oooh_ yeah.’ The guy rocked back, laughing too. ‘Guess we’d better not make the orphan too angry.’  
  
Josten’s fingers pressed into his bared skin,  
pressed into the existing bruises,  
and Andrew could almost feel the dull ache on his own arms.  
  
It was unpleasant.  
  
‘You’d better not!’ a girl with pigtails said to the group. ‘Or Riko will get mad.’  
  
Something unpleasant passed over douchebag’s face.  
It looked like _fear_.  
  
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Forgot you were Moriyama property.’  
  
He took a step back,  
and Andrew noticed himself relaxing slightly.  
  
_Since when had he been prepared to jump in?  
_ _  
_ ‘Let’s just play ball,’ douchebag said to his friends, and that was that.  
  
They turned around and left Josten and his ugly bruises alone on the hard benches.  
  
Andrew knew he should go too,  
but he found himself looking just a little longer.  
  
_Moriyama property._  
  
What did that mean?  
  
🌑  
  
As soon as Andrew saw Aaron heading towards the cafeteria,  
he turned away from it,  
heading towards the benches outside instead.  
  
The wind was blowing harshly  
and dozens of dead leaves blew across the courtyard.  
  
Wiping away the red and orange leaves, Andrew sat at an empty park bench underneath a large tree.  
  
Ravens cawed at him from above.  
  
Andrew quickly pulled a cigarette from his pocket.  
He inhaled the smoke like it was ice cream,  
and was disgusted with himself when he noticed his hands were shaking from _needing_.  
  
_So much for a new beginning_.  
  
Deep down Andrew knew it was impossible to cut ties with your old self so quickly.  
Sometimes he wondered if it was even possible at all.  
Maybe your past was like sleep,  
something you needed  
to get through another day.  
  
Because what were people  
if not their past?  
  
Andrew sighed out dark grey smoke  
and listened to the ravens cawing loudly overhead.  
  
He glared at them.  
  
They didn’t seem to mind.  
  
🌑  
  
‘This is the best mac ‘n cheese I’ve ever had,’ Erik groaned, and shovelled more into his mouth.  
  
‘ _Babe_. You say that about every mac ‘n cheese I make,’ Nicky cooed.  
  
Erik smiled. ‘That’s because you outdo yourself every time.’  
  
Nicky returned his smile. ‘I’m so glad your first day at work was good.’  
  
‘I’m more curious about yours though,’ Erik said, turning towards Andrew and Aaron. ‘How was the first day of school?’  
  
‘Passable,’ Aaron said.  
  
‘Did you make any friends?’  
  
‘There was this guy who was friendly enough,’ Aaron admitted. ‘But you shouldn’t ask me. Ask _him_.’ He jerked his head to Andrew. ‘He made a scene in the hallway.’  
  
Nicky gasped. ‘Andrew, you didn’t.’  
  
‘I didn’t,’ Andrew said. ‘Riko Moriyama did.’  
  
‘Oh!’ Erik spoke up. ‘Now that you mention it. You remember that big Victorian mansion we drove past?’  
  
Andrew nodded.  
  
‘Apparently it’s an orphanage. A _wealthy_ orphanage. Turns out it’s run by—’  
  
‘The Moriyamas,’ Andrew finished.  
  
It explained _Moriyama property_.  
  
An unpleasant chill travelled over Andrew’s spine as he remembered Josten’s bruises  
and Riko’s dark expression.  
  
‘Yeah. I heard people at work talking about the Moriyamas, but it was all in hushed whispers,’ Erik continued. ‘They’re very influential in town, apparently. We’re not allowed to talk badly about them.’  
  
‘I thought town halls were big buildings full of gossip?’ Nicky asked.  
  
‘I mean, yes,’ Erik laughed. ‘But we’re still whispering, just in case.’  
  
_Hm_. Used to people listening to him seemed to be an understatement, alright.  
Andrew bet that the Moriyamas knew which hands to press money into to get what they wanted.  
  
Only one problem remained.  
Where did the money come fr—  
  
‘You’d better not get into a fight with Riko, Andrew,’ Nicky said. ‘We don’t want him telling his father, and his father firing Erik or something!’  
  
‘Easy, Nicky,’ Erik said softly. ‘I’m sure that won’t happen.’  
  
‘If you mean Andrew won’t get into a fight, you’re wrong,’ Aaron pointed out.  
  
‘Oh,’ Andrew said. ‘Should I hide when Riko comes near? That seemed to work out for you.’  
  
Aaron glared at him.  
  
But it was nothing compared to Josten’s glare  
as he sat on those benches  
and tried to keep himself together.  
  
Andrew didn’t do regret,  
but he briefly allowed himself to wonder what would’ve happened if he had intervened.  
  
🌑  
  
The next day,  
Andrew did an amazing job of avoiding everyone who’d talked to him the day before.  
  
Pastel haired girl tried to make contact on their way to the cafeteria, but Andrew had immediately turned and gone outside for a smoke,  
and that was that.  
  
Unfortunately, he couldn’t avoid the tall, glaring guy who pressed a flyer in his hand and didn’t let go until Andrew actually grasped the paper.  
  
‘Come to the festival next weekend,’ tall guy said.  
  
Annoyed, Andrew  tried to pull his hand back.  
  
And it was because of this, because Andrew looked up, annoyed, that he noticed the glare on the guy’s face was part irritation,  
and part fear.  
  
Again.  
Fear.  
  
Andrew yanked the flyer out of his hand. ‘What festival?’  
  
‘Read the flyer.’  
  
‘I’m asking.’  
  
‘I’m not on the committee.’  
  
‘Then who is?’  
  
The guy was quiet for just a second too long.  
When he talked again,  
the name didn’t surprise Andrew at all.  
  
‘Riko.’  
  
‘Figured,’ Andrew said.  
  
The guy’s glare turned into a real one. ‘You’d better go to the festival,’ he said. ‘Everyone does.’  
  
‘I’m not everyone.’  
  
‘You’d be no one.’  
  
Andrew raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that a death threat?’  
  
‘I’m not threatening you,’ tall guy said, emphasising the _I’m_.  
  
Yeah, Andrew wasn’t buying it. ‘Seems like everyone associated with Riko is making death threats. Tell me, are you Moriyama property too?’  
  
He hadn’t thought his question would hit home,  
but the guy looked like Andrew had stuck his arm through his chest  
and turned the light off.  
Darkness fell over his features  
and a tight nod was all Andrew got in response.  
  
_Huh_.  
  
The guy turned away,  
but Andrew wasn’t finished.  
  
‘How?’ he asked. The guy froze. ‘How does someone so small control so much?’  
  
Silence.  
  
Even though students were walking past them, talking and laughing amongst themselves—some even exclaiming in excitement that the festival was _finally_ here—the guy’s silence seemed to drown all of them out.  
  
Andrew didn’t think he would get an answer.  
  
But then the guy turned around, and said, ‘Go to the festival.’  
  
🌑  
  
There was a police car in front of the school when Andrew exited.  
Just one.  
  
He stared at the bashed up car and then at the man who stepped out of it. Tattoos covered most of his arms.  
The man looked left and right, surveying the school grounds, before adjusting something on his belt and walking towards the school.  
  
Andrew leaned against a tree as he watched him go inside.  
It was almost funny,  
the startled look in Josten’s eyes as he opened the school’s oak doors just as the policeman entered.  
  
The policeman paused and said something to Josten that made him freeze. Eyes focused on the ground, Josten didn’t even turn around while the policeman talked.  
  
Eventually, the man gave up and headed inside.  
  
And Josten continued walking.  
  
Without knowing what he was doing,  
or why,  
Andrew followed him.  
  
🌑

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; Josten’s hands balled into fists. ‘You shouldn’t want Riko’s attention.’
> 
> Whew. Aaand there's Riko. And a tall, glaring guy. I wonder who that was... 
> 
> Sooo let me know what you thought of this chapter if you want :) And thank you SO much for reading! <3  
> Have a lovely weekend!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> I hope you're well! I'm currently drinking a coffee with a shot of Baileys in it and it smells like caramel and tastes like warm hugs. Mmmm. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

He’d seen the mansion once before,  
but that had been from behind rain streaked windows.   
  
When Andrew walked towards it now, the building was even more imposing.  
Though there were many windows, all the curtains were shut tight,  
and cobwebs seemed to suggest they didn’t open often.  
  
It didn’t look like a place you’d want to grow up in.  
  
Andrew had visited and lived in plenty of fucked up homes,  
but the closer he got to the orphanage,  
the more his gut told him this was a bad place.  
  
He tore his gaze away from the depressed house  
and startled slightly when his eyes met the angry blue of Josten.  
  
‘Took you long enough,’ Andrew said, recovering quickly from the surprise.  
  
‘What are you doing?’ Josten asked.  
  
‘Trying to figure out what Moriyama property means.'  
  
‘Don’t.’ Josten’s hands balled into fists. ‘You shouldn’t want Riko’s attention.’  
  
‘I don’t want anyone’s attention,’ Andrew said boredly. ‘Unlike you.’  
  
‘What?’  
  
Andrew gestured vaguely at him. ‘You act scared, but you’re not. I can see it in your eyes, Josten. You’re angry.’  
  
Josten stared at him,  
and funnily enough, all the fight seemed to leave him.  
His fists uncurled,  
and his shoulders slumped.  
  
‘It’s hard to give up wanting,’ he said quietly.  
  
So quietly, that Andrew had barely heard him,  
if not for the fact that the same words seemed to echo in his own mind.  
  
Andrew didn’t have an answer.  
So he pulled the crumpled up flyer out of his hoodie and held it up in question.  
  
Josten’s eyes darted towards it.  
  
‘Don’t go,’ he said.  
  
‘Are you?’ Andrew asked.  
  
There were many different ways how Josten could’ve answered  
but he just said, ‘Yes.’  
  
🌑  
  
The kitchen lights were warm and soft,  
just like Nicky’s smile as he stirred the paella in the pan.  
  
‘Aaron!’ he shouted. ‘Dinner’s ready!’  
  
Meanwhile Erik placed the last of the cutlery on the table before sitting down opposite Andrew, who was scrolling through Twitter on his phone.  
  
‘The police came by today,’ Erik said.  
  
‘To the town hall?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Erik nodded.  
  
‘There was also one at school,’ Andrew said, but his words were drowned out by Aaron’s footsteps on the stairs.  
  
‘What?’ Erik asked, leaning closer to catch his words.  
  
‘Didn’t you hear me calling?’ Nicky asked Aaron.  
  
‘I was on the phone,’ Aaron said.  
  
‘There was also one at school,’ Andrew repeated.  
  
‘Who was?’ Aaron asked.  
  
Nicky put steaming plates piled with paella in front of their noses.  
It smelled delicious,  
so Andrew took a bite first before answering. ‘The police.’  
  
‘What?’ Nicky asked. ‘The police were at school too? Why? What did they want?’  
  
‘I don’t know,’ Andrew said, at the same time that Erik said, ‘A boy died.’  
  
A cold silence fell over the kitchen,  
one that didn’t belong amidst the warm lights, good food, and Nicky’s soft smile.  
  
But of course Nicky wouldn’t drop it. ‘What...?’ he asked faintly. ‘Who died?’  
  
‘Seth... Gordon?’ Erik said hesitatingly. ‘He was a senior, I think.’  
  
‘Did you know him?’ Nicky asked Aaron and Andrew.  
  
‘Nope,’ Aaron said, before taking another bite of paella.  
  
And even though Andrew shook his head,  
he had a bad feeling about this.  
  
‘That’s terrible,’ Nicky said. ‘Those poor parents. Do they know what happened to him?’  
  
‘He didn’t have any parents,’ Erik said. ‘He was an orphan.’  
  
‘Oh.’ Nicky stared down at his plate, and Andrew hated the sadness in his eyes. ‘I guess that’s a blessing in disguise.’  
  
No.  
No, Andrew thought, it was anything  
but  
a blessing in disguise  
to be an orphan in Black Creek, Georgia.  
  
🌒  
  
Maybe,  
Andrew didn’t try as hard to avoid Josten the next couple of days.  
  
You’d think Seth Gordon would be impossible to avoid,  
but to Andrew’s surprise no one was talking about it.  
  
It seemed like one day, there had been a senior named Seth Gordon,  
and the next,  
there wasn’t.  
  
It was strange.  
  
And it kept Andrew mildly interested,  
if only because he wanted to know if Riko was as dangerous as he himself liked to believe.  
  
Maybe it was time to eat in the cafeteria.  
  
🌒  
  
Groups of teenagers sat together like groups of colours.  
Only people of the same shade could sit together.  
Someone who was a blue, didn’t want to mix with a green.  
  
Such bullshit.  
  
Andrew threw two muffins on his tray and headed for the register, casually surveying the cafeteria from the corner of his eye.  
  
And then he saw it again.  
  
A flash of orange,  
just at the edge of his vision.  
  
The only colour that was on its own.  
  
Andrew wondered why Josten was even sitting in the cafeteria in the first place.  
Why he hadn’t fled outside.  
Especially since Andrew noticed douchebag and his friends sitting just a table over, pointing and laughing at him.  
  
He surveyed the rest of the cafeteria.  
  
Riko’s table was hilariously easy to find.  
It was in the middle of the cafeteria, everyone at it was wearing black, and Riko was sitting at the head like a king.  
It didn’t surprise Andrew to see the tall, glaring guy from before sitting at Riko’s right.  
Property indeed.  
  
A sudden burst of laughter to his left made him look away from the monstrosity that was Riko’s power display.  
  
Douchebag had taken it upon himself to throw his empty bottle of milk at Josten.  
Judging from the splatters of white running down the orange,  
he’d actually managed to hit.  
  
In the end, two things made Andrew walk over.  
  
One, he didn’t care for bullies.  
And two,  
because Josten was the only one not sitting at Riko’s table.  
  
Andrew put his tray on the table with an audible _clash_ , the muffins falling over in the process, and sat opposite Josten, who looked up in shock.  
  
‘Where’s the bottle?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Josten blinked at him for a good few seconds before he mumbled, ‘Under the table.’  
  
Andrew ducked, saw it, and grabbed it.  
When he straightened himself, he judged the distance between him and douchebag, estimated he could make that throw in his sleep, and took aim.  
  
‘What are y—’  
  
Andrew threw the bottle.  
It hit the back of douchebag’s head with a satisfying _plonk_.  
  
‘Ow!’ douchebag exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head before turning around in anger.  
  
‘Oops,’ Andrew deadpanned.  
  
He hoped the other would get up and try something.  
He could feel the outline of his knives pressing into his skin, and at the moment it grounded him like nothing else could.  
  
It seemed like douchebag got the message, because he was already moving to his feet until—  
Douchebag suddenly froze.  
There was _fear_ in his eyes as he quietly sat down again.  
  
‘I think you meant to hit him,’ Riko said disapprovingly.  
  
_Jesus_.  
  
Andrew whirled around.  
Standing behind Josten, one hand curled possessively on his shoulder, Riko and a few of his _property_ were staring Andrew down.  
  
‘I did,’ Andrew said, as boredly as he could.  
  
‘You didn’t need to do that,’ Riko said.  
  
His hand slid down over Josten’s shoulder, almost like a caress.  
It made Andrew nauseous.  
He knew what those touches felt like.    
  
As if Riko could read his mind, he gave him a slippery smile. ‘I can take care of Neil.’  
  
_Neil.  
_  
‘I saw what that looked like,’ Andrew said. ‘I don’t think you can.’  
  
Riko’s hand balled into a fist,  
gripping a handful of Josten’s washed out sweater,  
gripping it so hard Josten had to lean back awkwardly,  
or else he would choke.  
  
‘Careful, Andrew,’ Riko said quietly, the darkness behind his eyes a living thing. ‘I don’t need much to hurt you.’  
  
Andrew stared back.  
He wanted to reach for his knives and throw one right in Riko’s eye. Cut out the despicable pleasure he saw reflected there.  
  
But he knew Josten would get hurt if he provoked Riko now.  
  
So Andrew did what he did best.  
He stared unimpressed at Riko,  
until finally, Riko released his grip.  
  
Josten immediately leaned forward, taking deep breaths.  
  
‘You’ve been warned,’ Riko said. His eyes slid down to Andrew’s tray. ‘Enjoy your sugar.’  
  
Andrew wanted to throw the muffin at Riko’s face but instead he said, ‘Thanks for the warning.’  
  
As soon as Riko was gone, Andrew turned his attention to Josten. Neil.  
  
‘Are you okay?’  
  
‘Are you fucking stupid?’ Josten spat back.  
  
_Lovely._  
  
Andrew started picking apart the wrapping on the chocolate muffin. ‘Why aren’t you sitting with your owner?’  
  
Josten fell silent for a moment. ‘I haven’t earned the right.’  
  
‘Or you don’t want the right.’  
  
When Josten looked up, their gazes locked.  
His blue eyes were nearly electric from the intensity with which they stared at Andrew.  
  
‘Careful, _Andrew_ ,’ he said.

So Andrew’s guess had been right.  
Andrew took a bite from his muffin. It was greasy.  
  
‘Tell me, _Neil_ ,’ he said. ‘Where do people go when they want to skip class?’  
  
🌒  
  
Red and orange trees rustled in the harsh autumn winds.  
Outside on the pitch, a sports team was practicing. It was hard to tell which sport, as all the members were wearing sweatpants and doing generic stretching exercises.  
  
Neil must’ve noticed him looking, because he said, ‘It’s just football.’  
  
Andrew forced down the urge to snort. ‘Not a fan?’  
  
‘No,’ Neil said, pulling a face. A faraway look crossed his face for a moment. ‘I love running.’  
  
‘There’s a track there.’  
  
But as soon as Andrew pointed Neil back towards the here and now,  
the faraway look disappeared  
and the frustration and anger settled back in.  
  
‘I can’t join,’ he said.  
  
So many reasons why not.  
And yet Andrew didn’t have to ask.

‘Riko.’  
  
‘Riko,’ Neil confirmed.  
  
They passed the bleachers, and Neil gestured vaguely at them. ‘Some people who skip go behind there.’  
  
‘For sex,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Mostly,’ Neil shrugged, then continued walking.  
  
Behind and around the bleachers was what appeared to be a small forest, dozens of trees dropping orange and red leaves on the earth.  
Andrew wondered why Neil didn’t point it out as a hang-out.  
  
The path curved right then, and a smaller building behind the school suddenly became visible.  
In rusted letters, it said _LIBRARY.  
_  
‘Dumb place to skip school,’ Andrew said, when Neil pushed open the brown doors.  
  
‘Not really,’ Neil said, leading the way through a narrow hallway that led into a larger room filled with, surprise, books.  
  
And a reception.  
Sitting behind the counter with a book in her hands  
was the pastel haired girl.  
  
‘This is Renee,’ Neil said, then promptly walked past her.  
  
The girl looked up briefly and when she noticed Andrew, she seemed surprised.  
  
‘Hi,’ she said.  
  
‘You work here or something?’ Andrew asked.  
  
‘It’s not really work as much as keeping it alive.’  
  
How boring.  
  
Andrew started to follow Neil, who had disappeared behind the rows of books, when Renee spoke up again.  
  
‘That’s the first time I’ve seen Neil with someone else.’  
  
Andrew raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought he was Moriyama property.’  
  
‘That just means he’s always alone.’  
  
The words were quiet.  
As quiet as loneliness felt like.  
  
Andrew stared at her.  
Hard.  
  
What did she hope to achieve by telling him this?  
  
He took in all her softness;  
from the colour of her eyes to the set of her mouth to the faded colours in her hair.  
  
Unfortunately, it looked like she was one of those people who _cared_.  
Cared enough about others to risk crossing boundaries.  
  
Andrew gave her a short nod,  
then walked into the world of books.  
  
🌒  
  
It wasn’t hard to find Neil.  
  
Andrew simply looked at things from the corner of his eye,  
until he noticed the flash of orange.  
  
He followed the orange to a corner of the library where a brown, leather couch was pushed underneath half a bookcase, creating a little nook that Starbucks hipsters would go crazy for.  
  
Neil Josten was sitting cross legged on said couch.  
He was watching Andrew warily.  
  
‘Can I sit?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Neil stared at him.  
A few emotions crossed his face, before he eventually tried to hide them behind a curt nod and a forced, ‘Sure.’  
  
Andrew made sure to leave a lot of space between them.  
Even though it was a small couch.  
  
When he sat, he felt himself sink into the worn leather.  
It was comfortable.  
Good for napping.  
  
‘Some people hang out here,’ Neil said.  
  
‘There’s no one here,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Not a lot of people skip class.’  
  
‘Do you?’  
  
Neil was silent for a while.  
Andrew took the opportunity to stare at Neil’s face  
and be annoyed by how attractive it was.  
  
‘More than most people,’ Neil said eventually.  
  
A part of Andrew wanted to ask.  
Wanted to _know_ .  
  
_Why?_ _  
_ _What do you do when you skip class?  
_ _Of all the places, this is where you hang out?  
  
_ Instead, he slouched down,  
pulled his hoodie over his head,  
and closed his eyes.  
  
He wasn’t going to sleep with a stranger next to him,  
but he wanted to see what Neil would do.  
  
It was a long wait.  
  
It took Neil fifteen minutes before he finally shifted, couch creaking underneath his folded up legs.

After twenty-five minutes,  
Andrew said, ‘For someone who wants to run, you’re too good at sitting still.’  
  
‘You know where I live,’ Neil said simply.  
  
The answer was jagged, and cut into Andrew’s skin.  
Which was more reaction than he’d expected.  
Because he’d expected nothing.  
  
Frankly, he’d also expected nothing from Black Creek, Georgia  
and yet it had already given him a flash of orange  
and a brown leather couch in a corner of the library.  
  
Was it a new beginning?  
Nicky would say yes.  
But Nicky couldn’t give consent for Andrew,  
and Andrew wasn’t sure he wanted to give this strange, bruised beginning his consent.  
  
‘Do you read?’ Neil asked out of the blue.  
  
‘Sometimes,’ Andrew allowed.  
  
‘I don’t. But there’s one quote I like.’  
  
Andrew pulled his hoodie back and glanced boredly at Neil.  
Neil was staring at the bookcases in front of them.  
  
‘I’m not that kind of person,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘You followed me here,’ Neil said, and when he looked at Andrew, his eyes were a blazing blue. Brighter and more jarring than a fucking fluorescent lamp. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to hear it?’  
  
For a few seconds,  
Andrew was speechless.  
  
_Fucking smartass_.  
  
Neil interpreted his silence as permission,  
which was wrong in and of itself,  
but the words he said were almost enough to forgive him.  
  
If you did a thing like forgiving.  
  
‘To live is the rarest thing in the world,’ Neil said quietly. There was too much emotion in the word _live_ . Andrew could taste it in the air like Neil had breathed the emotions out like smoke from a cigarette. ‘Most people exist. That’s all.’  
  
It was disgusting.  
It was rushing past the beginning and jumping in the deep.  
Because Andrew now knew more about Neil, about the things that _mattered_ to him, than he had consented to.  
  
‘You should get that as a tattoo,’ he said blankly, then moved to his feet.  
  
Neil didn’t ask where he was going,  
and so it was less troubling to just walk away  
without having to explain why.  
  
To Neil,  
and himself.  
  
🌒  
  
‘You know what’s strange?’ Nicky asked, when Andrew sneaked downstairs to get a snack.  
  
Andrew was mildly surprised to find Nicky in the kitchen, though he didn’t let it show.  
But apparently Nicky could read him better than Andrew thought he could, because he added, ‘Sorry, couldn’t sleep.’  
  
‘Don’t apologize,’ Andrew said. He opened the fridge to look for something edible.  
  
‘I bought ice cream,’ Nicky said. ‘It’s at the bottom.’  
  
Andrew grabbed it, pointedly not reacting to the fact that Nicky had bought his favourite flavour. When he turned around, he found Nicky staring absentmindedly at the ground.  
  
It was that kicked puppy look Nicky had perfected.  
  
Ugh.  
_Fine_.  
  
‘What’s wrong?’ Andrew asked.  
  
‘You know how I talked about a new beginning and everything?’ Nicky asked. Andrew nodded. ‘Well, I thought… I thought maybe I could set up something for gay kids here? You know, to help them out with… I don’t know, being out? With accepting themselves? Like, maybe give them a safe haven, or just set a good example?’ Nicky laughed awkwardly. ‘I mean _I’m_ not a good example, but I think Erik could be.’  
  
‘You would both be an example,’ Andrew said. ‘You don’t see gay couples being healthy and happy.’  
  
‘Yeah... Yeah, maybe you’re right. At any rate, it’s not gonna happen.’ Nicky sighed. ‘Did you know there’s no church here?’  
  
‘There is.’  
  
Andrew knew there was.  
He’d seen it on the map when he’d looked up Black Creek, Georgia.  
  
‘Yeah, but... Okay, lemme rephrase. There’s a _building_ , but it’s empty. Empty!’ Nicky threw his hands in the air. ‘Who would just leave such a beautiful building empty? It’s just standing there, all sad. At least use it as a library or something!’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, no church, no LGBT group.’  
  
‘Why not?’  
  
Nicky frowned. ‘Because the groups are always connected to a youth center or church.’  
  
‘Who the fuck cares,’ Andrew said. ‘A safe place is a safe place. No matter where it is. It might be even safer because it’s not connected to a church.’ He paused. ‘Though I heard there’s an empty church building just waiting to be used.’  
  
Nicky stared at him.  
He blinked a few times.  
Then.  
  
‘You’re saying… You’re saying I should found one anyway?’  
  
Andrew shrugged and grabbed a spoon from the drawer.  
As he walked upstairs, the cold tub of ice cream clutched in his hands, he could still hear Nicky’s mind creaking.  
  
🌒

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; "There’s only one reason why people aren’t talking about Seth Gordon... "
> 
> Writing about Nicky making paella made me want to eat it..... 
> 
> ANYWAY I hope it's still fun! Let me know what you thought if you want, and thank you so much for reading <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> Today I learned the disturbing fact that whales have hip bones because they need it for sexual... reasons...  
> I will never be the same again.
> 
> Enjoy this chapter!

It was a rainy Sunday when Andrew finished setting up his room.  
  
He looked at his newly purchased rug,  
and then after a moment pulled off his socks and rubbed his feet on it.  
Soft.  
  
‘Andrew?’ Erik yelled from downstairs.  
  
Startled, Andrew shot up like he’d just been found at a crime scene.  
He glared at the rug  
and his bare feet  
and then called back, ‘Yeah?’  
  
‘Can you help me put something together?’  
  
Instead of answering, Andrew put his socks back on and walked downstairs. He found Erik sitting in front of the TV.  
Both were on the ground.  
The TV, and Erik.  
  
‘Oh good, there you are. I can’t seem to put this thing together,’ Erik huffed in frustration. He waved the instructions at Andrew, who grabbed them and looked at what they were supposed to be doing.  
  
It took them ten minutes to figure out Erik was simply missing a few pieces.  
  
‘Ah.’ Erik laughed. ‘That explains _a lot_.’  
  
Andrew stared at the wonky TV stand,  
and against his will,  
thought about bruised arms and jarringly blue eyes.  
  
‘Guess I have to hit the depot again,’ Erik mumbled. ‘Man, I’m becoming a regular there. Maybe I should get a premium card.’  
  
‘I’ll come too,’ Andrew said.  
  
_Bad idea_.  
  
‘Oh?’ Erik looked surprised for a second before smiling. ‘Yes, please. I could use the help.’  
  
_Bad idea,  
_ _bad idea,  
_ _bad idea.  
  
_ 🌒  
  
The words echoed through his mind as they walked through the unnaturally bright aisles of the depot. From the muttering beside him, Andrew could tell Erik was already getting lost. Again.  
  
‘We can split up,’ Andrew suggested boredly, but as soon as Erik agreed,  
his heart jumped inside his chest.  
  
It was so fucking stupid.  
It was why he’d walked out of the library.  
To avoid this.  
And yet.  
Yet here he was, walking through shelves filled with tools and screws and bolts,  
searching for a flash of orange.  
  
But the only flash of orange he found was the paint in the small section at the back of the store.  
  
Nothing that glared angrily at the ground,  
nothing that made unoriginal death threats,  
and quoted Oscar Wilde to him.  
  
Who in their right mind would hang out in the home depot anyway?  
  
Andrew halted suddenly.  
  
What _had_ Neil been doing here?  
  
He hadn’t seen him buy something, nor had he been carrying anything. Not even a backpack. It suggested Neil _did_ hang out at the depot for fun.  
Though fun  
was obviously the wrong word.  
  
_Hm._  
Andrew wasn’t convinced.  
  
🌓  
  
Monday morning.  
  
Instead of immediately sitting in his seat and tuning everything and everyone out,  
Andrew walked over to the pastel haired girl.  
  
‘Why isn’t anyone talking about Seth Gordon?’ he asked.  
  
Renee’s softness turned to harsh edges in a single heartbeat,  
nearly too fast for Andrew to notice.  
  
‘Not here,’ she whispered, almost feverishly, her dark eyes trained on Andrew. ‘Come to the library at 12.’  
  
What.  
  
Andrew raised an eyebrow. ‘What if—’  
  
‘Of course,’ Renee interrupted him loudly. ‘I can give you a copy of my notes!’  
  
What the fuck.  
  
Andrew gave her a strange look before walking back to his seat.  
When he let himself fall in it,  
Josten was already sitting in front of him.  
  
Not that Andrew gave a fuck about that.  
  
He slouched down and made to pull his hoodie up,  
when Neil turned around.  
  
And Andrew hated how his everything _paused_ ,  
like all of his energy was directed towards watching,  
towards paying attention to Neil “die then” Josten.  
  
Except it wasn’t a death threat at all.  
  
‘If you wanted notes, you could’ve asked me,’ Josten said.  
  
‘I don’t want anything,’ Andrew said.  
  
Annoyed,  
though mostly at himself,  
he pulled his hood down and stared out the window.  
  
🌓  
  
The annoyance didn’t end with English.  
  
Every laugh and sexist comment in the locker room pissed Andrew off to no end.  
  
Thank fuck Josten hadn’t forgotten his gym clothes this time.  
  
_But what about the bruises?_  
  
The bruises were no one’s business but Josten’s,  
and Andrew had no right to glance at him from the corner of his eye, just to check if they had healed.  
  
But Josten wasn’t changing in the locker room.  
  
It wasn’t hard to figure out why not.  
Andrew could fucking guess.  
Well, good for Neil, knowing how to hide what a fucking sob story he was.  
  
Andrew tightened his shoelaces and dragged himself to the gym.  
  
Basketball again.  
  
Andrew rarely put any effort into gym, but he found he could _just_ care enough to start moving when douchebag or his friends got the ball.  
He slammed into one of douchebag’s friends and stole the ball right from his dirty hands before making a neat three-pointer.  
  
The glares of douchebag’s friends felt like compliments.

Andrew _basked_ in them.  
  
🌓  
  
When it was finally 12,  
Andrew pushed the library doors open and stalked towards the counter where Renee was, again, reading a book.  
  
‘Tell me,’ he said.  
  
Renee slowly closed the book, put it away, then looked up at him. ‘I don’t know much.’  
  
‘Wrong answer.’  
  
‘What I know is dangerous,’ she continued, unperturbed. Her brown eyes were serious, serious enough that Andrew didn’t immediately walk away. She brushed her hair behind her ears and gave Andrew a soft smile that he didn’t care for at all.  
  
‘Honestly, I thought you would’ve figured it out by now.’  
  
Patience running thin, Andrew merely said, ‘Waiting.’  
  
‘Well… There’s only one reason why people aren’t talking about Seth Gordon... Because someone doesn’t want people talking about him.’  
  
_For fuck’s sake.  
_ _  
_ ‘What does Riko have to do with it?’  
  
‘Everything,’ Renee answered quietly.  
  
‘He murdered him or something?’  
  
‘I don’t know. I think so.’  
  
_What the fuck_. How much power could one small creepy fuck have?  
  
‘Why would he?’  
  
Instead of answering, Renee looked at him,  
searching for something.  
  
‘Seth was an orphan,’ she said eventually. ‘And in Black Creek, being an orphan means you—’  
  
And then Neil fucking Josten walked into the library,  
looking fucking surprised to find Andrew there too.  
  
He didn’t even blink  
or talk.  
  
‘What,’ Andrew said. ‘You don’t have an Oscar Wilde quote for the situation?’  
  
Neil recoiled.  
Like he’d been slapped.  
  
And feelings Andrew hadn’t felt in a long time washed over him in thick, oily waves.  
Feelings like guilt.  
Regret.  
  
‘Fuck,’ he muttered.  
  
He wanted to take a step forward, though he had no idea _why_ , but as soon as he moved even an inch,  
Neil quickly turned on his heel and dashed out of the library.  
  
It took Andrew three seconds  
before he ran after him.  
  
The autumn wind greeted him harshly when he threw open the library doors.  
A whirlwind of red and orange leaves flew across the school grounds,  
but they were all the wrong shade.  
  
Nothing was quite like Josten’s orange.  
  
Andrew looked around,  
but Neil was nowhere to be found.  
  
🌓  
  
True, he’d been annoyed.  
  
Something about the situation felt fishy and fucking dangerous and Andrew didn’t want to have to deal with another mess.  
He wanted Nicky to have his new beginning.  
To have the warm home, happy family, and LGBT group.  
  
And yet something else was making its way on that list,  
something that shouldn’t be there.  
  
Because Andrew should really know better.  
  
_It’s hard to give up wanting_ ,  
Neil had said.  
  
Fucking smartass.  
  
Andrew threw his books in his locker before slamming the door shut.  
It drowned out the sounds of the people around him for one fantastic second.  
  
‘ _Come visit the festival!’_ some kid exclaimed with a smile.  
  
Fucking festival.  
  
Andrew wasn’t interested in the commotion at all, ready to push anyone who’d get in his way to the side,  
until he heard the slick and greasy voice of Riko.  
  
‘Hey other-Andrew, you should come to the festival.’  
  
‘No thanks,’ he heard Aaron say.  
  
Andrew immediately turned around.  
Riko was standing in front of Aaron with a slippery smile on his face. ‘Oh, how nice. We’re finally talking. That’s so much better than before, isn’t it?’  
  
‘It’s really not,’ Aaron muttered.  
  
It annoyed Andrew that Aaron was too much of a coward to say it out loud,  
but it annoyed him more when Riko took another step into Aaron’s space and said, ‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’  
  
Andrew didn’t hesitate.  
Within seconds he was standing between his brother and Riko.

He plastered a fake smile on his face.  
  
‘Fuck off, Riko,’ he said pleasantly.  
  
Riko was slightly taken aback,  
judging by the few seconds it took before he responded.  
  
‘Ah. Both twins together. How nice.’ He took a step back to observe them both. ‘You really do look alike.’  
  
Andrew just stared back at him.  
Unimpressed by all the theatrics.  
  
Riko smiled. ‘Well, now that I have you both here, I can formally invite you to the festival.’  
  
He held out a flyer that Andrew didn’t bother looking at. Nor did he respond, and after another few seconds of silence,  
the corner of Riko’s mouth twitched in annoyance.  
  
‘Didn’t your parents teach you it’s rude to stare?’ he said sharply.  
  
‘No,’ Andrew said. ‘They taught me not to trust anyone.’  
  
Riko clicked his tongue. ‘How sad. I would’ve thought Erik was a very good father. Shows you how deceptive appearances can be. Or maybe it’s Nicky who didn’t teach you morals?’ Riko’s face twisted into something that was supposed to look like concern. It didn’t look like concern. ‘I guess that’s what you get with two dads. It’s just unnatural, you know?’  
  
Andrew’s blood ran freezing cold  
and then boiling hot.  
  
Forget about the fucking orange,  
Andrew saw _red_.  
The colour was bleeding into his vision, the colour of Riko’s blood after Andrew had sunk his knife deep into his throat,  
the colour of the blood he would gurgle up as he tried to breathe, in vain,  
the colour of—  
  
Aaron’s hand on his shoulder.  
  
Stupid.  
His little brother knew not to touch him.  
  
But the touch jarred Andrew enough to see past the red  
and focus on the sick, satisfied smile on Riko’s face.  
  
_Don’t._ _  
_ _Don’t fucking give it to him.  
  
_ So Andrew forced normal words past his throat.  
  
‘Thanks for the invitation,’ he said, tapping his head in mock salute. ‘Let’s never talk again.’  
  
He shook Aaron’s hand off and walked away from what was supposed to be a normal high school bully.  
But Andrew had a sinking feeling he was dealing with so much more.  
  
🌔  
  
Black Creek, Georgia felt too small to be called a town;  
the main street in the center of town, with its rows and rows of little shops, was the only thing that felt _big_ .  
  
The rest of Black Creek was divided into small sections and winding roads. The roads suggested the town had grown organically, and Andrew could see it in the twisted trees curving around the modern world.  They had learned to live with the changes,  
and if the trees could,  
Andrew supposed he should too.  
  
Which was why he bullied Nicky into driving up to the abandoned church.  
  
‘You know I’m bad with haunted spaces,’ Nicky said, but there was a smile on his face as they drove through Black Creek, Georgia. ‘God, it’s so beautiful here.’  
  
Andrew looked at the red and orange trees,  
at the small shop windows boasting organic produce and hand knitted sweaters,  
and the red brick buildings with their white trimming.  
  
It looked like something of a postcard.  
Which meant it was too good to be real.  
  
It wasn’t raining.  
Andrew would’ve preferred the rainstreaked windows over this clear view. Because now he could see the little flags and ornaments waving in the harsh autumn winds,  
announcing the festival.  
  
Black Creek had been preparing for two weeks, and now it was nearly here.  
  
‘I wonder why it’s on a Thursday,’ Andrew said, watching an old man put up a little stand in front of his flower shop.  
  
‘Mm? What is?’  
  
‘The Festival.’  
  
‘Oh, yeah. I don’t know either. But it’s nice, isn’t it? A small town festival sounds like the disgustingly perfect thing an American family would do.’  
  
The corner of Andrew’s mouth twitched.  
He couldn’t agree more.  
  
Finally, the car left behind the town center and the suburbs just after it. They drove up a small hill, and the houses around them got bigger and eventually sparser.  
  
Black Creek, Georgia, had felt too small to be called a town,  
but as they drove for at least ten minutes before the tip of the church even came into view,  
Andrew had to redefine his vision of the town.  
  
‘This is all Black Creek?’ he asked, leaning forward to get a closer look at the church dooming up in front of them.  
  
‘Yep,’ Nicky said. ‘It’s bigger than you think, huh.’  
  
‘It’s good,’ he said. ‘The church is far enough away.’  
  
‘You think? I mean, I kind of get why the town abandoned it. It’s ridiculously far away. Imagine being 90 and having to _walk_ to Church on Sunday. Twice!’  
  
‘That's good. It's remote. If you were gay and hiding it, would you want to be seen walking to Town Hall every week?’ Andrew asked.  
  
‘...You’re right,’ Nicky said, parking the car to the left of the church in something that had once been a parking lot.  
  
As soon as Andrew stepped out of the car, a harsh gust of wind nearly pushed him to the side. Annoyed, he pulled his hood over his head and walked up to the church.  
  
Something felt strange, he thought, though a quick glance around told him nothing.  
It was probably the murderous wind.  
  
Andrew tried the church’s doors and to his surprise they opened easily.  
  
‘Oh thank God,’ Nicky sighed. ‘I didn’t want to add breaking into the house of God to my list of sins.’  
  
Andrew didn’t believe this had ever been the house of god,  
but he had to eat his words as soon as he opened the old wooden door and peered inside.  
  
Light trickled through the round, glass stained window,  
illuminating the light wooden pews and the plants growing over them.  
Some were still standing in their original set-up,  
but towards the back a few pews were upturned or facing another way.  
  
But no matter which way they faced,  
they were all coated in green moss and vines.  
In plants.  
In nature.  
  
It looked hauntingly beautiful  
and if Andrew believed in god, he would’ve wanted them to have a house like this.  
  
‘Woah,’ Nicky breathed. ‘That’s beautiful.’  
  
‘And a lot of work,’ Andrew said.

'Don’t tell me you’re not seeing the beauty of this?’  
  
Andrew didn’t respond.  
He wanted to walk through the church and explore, see if something was salvageable, but at the same time he didn’t want to ruin the painting nature had created.  
  
Nicky didn’t have such qualms.  
He walked towards the pews and ran a hand over the old wood.    
  
‘So beautiful,’ he whispered.  
  
As Nicky walked through the rows and rows, testing a few pews to see if they didn’t fall apart when he sat on them, Andrew slowly walked towards the altar.  
Towards the light.  
  
What a bad joke.  
  
Except it wasn’t a joke.  
At all.  
  
The light filtering through the coloured glass felt like it couldn’t be real,  
even when Andrew was standing in a brightly coloured red beam.  
  
He lifted his hand  
and watched the colours dance between his fingers.  
  
It didn’t look real.  
Like trees blurring past a rain streaked window,  
the light jumping from finger to finger was something that only happened in paintings.  
  
Because light didn’t want to settle on Andrew’s hands.  
Hands that had done way too many things for them to be touched by something magical.  
  
Hm.  
Bad thought.  
  
‘Andrew?’  
  
Andrew turned, and saw Nicky looking at him with a strange smile on his face.  
  
‘I found a room that could work,’ Nicky said softly. ‘Wanna check it out?’  
  
Without a word, Andrew stepped out of the glass stained light and followed Nicky to a smaller room that looked like some sort of office.  
Except without any electronics.  
  
‘This could work right?’ Nicky said enthusiastically. ‘I mean, it’s a little small, but it’s not already inhabited like the church.’ He laughed at his own joke.  
  
Andrew walked towards the desk and inspected the drawers.  
Inside were a few old papers with dates and names. The dates were from years ago however, so Andrew dismissed those and rummaged through the lower ones when Nicky suddenly spoke up.  
  
‘Huh. That’s weird.’  
  
Andrew looked up.  
  
Nicky was inspecting the bookcase.  
  
Why he would was beyond Andrew. It was filled with the heavy leather tomes everyone pretended they’d read, while in actuality they'd bought it to display their intelligence to the world.  
  
‘There’s no bibles,’ Nicky said. ‘There’s all these different books about the church, about the community, even a few about psychology, but no actual bible?’  
  
‘Maybe they took it with them,’ Andrew said, turning his attention back to the desk drawers.  
  
But there was nothing interesting.  
  
Not surprising,  
still boring.  
  
‘Yeah, I guess. But a church usually has spares for people who forget their own, you know?’  
  
Andrew shrugged.  
He didn’t care about god, church, or the bible.  
  
‘This works,’ he said. ‘We can slowly clean up the place.’  
  
‘I mean, I’m not sure if people are even gonna show up,’ Nicky laughed.  
  
Still.  
  
‘You’re giving them the choice not to show up,’ Andrew said. ‘That’s an important difference.’  
  
Nicky was silent,  
but the look in his eyes burned through Andrew.  
  
🌔  
  
After half an hour of exploring,   
while Nicky took notes and pictures,  
they left the hauntingly beautiful church.  
  
And it was then  
that Andrew could pinpoint what had felt so strange when they’d first arrived.  
  
Though the trees around them rustled and groaned just as much as the others,  
they were bare.  
  
Bare in a way the trees at the school weren’t.  
  
It wasn’t the red and orange and brown leaves.  
It was the ravens.  
Or the lack of them.  
  
Andrew looked up at the trees.  
There were no beady eyes staring back at him,  
no harsh bird calls  
and black feathers ruffling.  
  
It made the place quieter than the rest of Black Creek.  
  
‘Andrew?’ Nicky shouted, his voice nearly carried away by the harsh wind. ‘Are you coming?’  
  
Andrew tore his eyes away from the silence  
and jogged towards the car.  
  
🌔

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; "A flash of orange in the corner of his eye."
> 
> Sorry that there's not a lot of interaction between Neil and Andrew this chapter! Next one though.......
> 
> Let me know what you thought if you want! And thank you so so much for reading <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely people!! 
> 
> Ready for more spoops?
> 
> Enjoy!

The cafeteria was again a mess of colours  
with one inkstain in the middle.  
  
Andrew watched the way Riko talked to the people at his table,  
observed his hands, his face, all his little mannerisms.  
  
Of course it was only a matter of time before Riko would notice,  
but the way his eyes casually, slowly, slid Andrew's way  
made Andrew think he’d been aware the entire time.  
  
Good.  
  
Andrew returned the poisonous gaze,  
held it for as long as he could.  
  
He broke it off as he started walking towards Josten’s table,  
and nearly bumped into the tall guy with the flyer and the fear in his eyes.  
  
‘Don’t provoke Riko,’ tall guy said.  
  
_What the actual fuck_.  
  
‘That isn’t any of your business,’ Andrew said, before he shouldered past him. Or tried to, but the guy’s hand was quick and he grasped Andrew’s shoulder.  
  
_No.  
  
_ Just as quick, Andrew slapped the arm away. He grabbed the guy’s shirt and pulled him down so they were nearly eye-to-eye.  
  
‘Don’t touch me,’ he stated. ‘Or you will lose your hand.’  
  
The guy was silent.  
There was fear in his eyes, but it didn’t look like it was for himself.  
  
‘If you touch what belongs to Riko,’ he said quietly, ‘you will lose more than your hand.’  
  
_For fuck’s sake_.  
  
Disgusted by the death threats, Andrew pushed the guy away, not even caring that people were watching.  
He wiped his hand on his shirt.  
  
He was so done with this shit.  
  
A flash of orange in the corner of his eye.  
  
Neil,  
watching him.  
  
That was right.  
They still had something to settle.  
  
Andrew walked over, and when Neil didn’t immediately run, sat down.  
  
Before the silence between them could grow heavy, Neil spoke up. ‘You said I wasn’t afraid. From what I can tell, it doesn’t look like you are either.’  
  
‘What does it look like?’ Andrew asked, against his better judgement.  
  
Neil stared at him. ‘It looks like you’re fearless. But that would be stupid.’  
  
It would.  
  
‘There’s things I’m afraid of.’  
  
‘And Riko will find out. And he will use them against you.’  
  
Andrew leaned forward. ‘Is that a threat or a warning?’  
  
Surprise crossed over Neil’s face.  
Interesting.  
  
‘Does it matter?’ Neil asked, almost defensively. ‘You don’t listen to what I say anyway.’  
  
‘I didn’t know that mattered.’  
  
Neil’s eyes bore through Andrew as he said, ‘When no one does, it matters.’  
  
Even if he wanted to,  
Andrew couldn’t turn away from Neil’s burning blue eyes,  
or the truth behind his words.  
  
And because he couldn’t apologise anymore,  
not after so many times of apologising for something he shouldn’t have,  
for something he could still feel sometimes when he stepped in the shower  
and heard footsteps in the hallway.  
Because of that,  
he said,  
‘To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist. That’s all.’  
  
Neil was silent for a moment. ‘You knew it was Oscar Wilde.’  
  
The bell rang,  
a loud, shrill sound that had no place in their fragile silence,  
and yet it broke it into a million pieces.  
  
The scraping of cheap plastic chairs, the groans of students, the clatter of trays being put away; it tore at the silence until there was nothing left and Neil’s eyes were looking dully at his hands, half-hidden by his sleeves.  
  
Andrew moved to his feet. ‘Josten.’  
  
Neil looked up.  
  
Andrew held his gaze for as long as he could,  
which wasn’t long at all.  
  
Because something in his chest felt erratic and wild and _alive_ when Josten’s eyes were on him.  
  
‘I listen,’ Andrew said.  
  
🌔  
  
That night,  
as Andrew lay in bed and was close to dozing off,  
he suddenly startled awake by the hissing and screeching of animals outside.  
  
He was out of bed and at the window within seconds.  
  
The full moon was shining down brightly,  
giving off enough light to illuminate dark shapes fighting beneath a tree in the garden.  
  
Andrew was frozen in place as he noticed the flash of orange, a tail,  
and then he heard the dying screech of a raven.  
  
Then,  
there was silence.  
  
Andrew pressed his hand against the window, like that would get him closer, like it would make him _see_ , and peered at the tree’s shadow, trying to spot another flash of orange.  
  
Except it wasn’t a flash this time.  
  
A fox’s head appeared from the shadows,  
the darkness dripping down its features until Andrew realized it wasn’t darkness,  
but a raven,  
hanging dead between the fox’s teeth.  
  
Andrew stared at it.  
For a second,  
he swore the fox was staring back.  
  
Then it was gone.  
  
🌕  
  
It was finally here.  
The fucking festival.  
  
Or the Firefly festival, as the banners waving in the wind told Andrew.  
  
Purple and dark blue flags were strung between lanterns and over shop fronts.  
Fairy lights were wrapped around tree trunks and festival tables and even a few benches.  
And everywhere, there were people.  
  
‘I can feel it,’ Nicky said. ‘I’m gonna buy too much shit.’  
  
Erik laughed. ‘Should I stop you?’  
  
‘Yes!’ Nicky immediately clung to Erik’s arm, looking up and batting his eyelashes at him. ‘Please protect me from capitalism, husband.’  
  
‘That isn’t capitalism,’ Aaron pointed out. ‘You’re just bad at saving money.’  
  
A lie.  
Nicky had saved months for this new beginning, if not longer.  
Andrew remembered the stickers on their food.  
50% off.  
Buy 2 get 3.  
  
Or the fact that Nicky had started taking the bus because it was “easier”.  
  
Andrew remembered,  
and while he hadn’t wanted this new beginning,  
he could respect everything Nicky had done for himself, and for them.  
  
Amidst the fairy lights and garlands, they walked towards the town center together,  
Andrew keeping an eye on the reactions of people around them. A few cast lingering glances at Nicky and Erik’s arms intimately intertwined, but no one looked disgusted or confused.  
Just curious.  
  
Music floated their way.  
  
An accordion, a violin, and something heavy.  
A double bass, Andrew guessed.  
  
The sky above was turning a dark purple and blue,  
matching the ornaments flying in the wind,  
and the full moon looked just like the fairy lights strung up everywhere.  
  
Nicky walked towards a stand with homemade candles, dragging Erik with him.  
Not having anything better to do, Andrew and Aaron followed them.  
  
‘Yes, homemade,’ the old lady behind the stand said. ‘I gots them in all flavours, as I like to say.  
  
‘I mean, they look so beautiful I kind of want to eat them,’ Nicky said.  
  
The old lady looked up in shock.  
  
Erik laughed. ‘He’s joking, sorry.’  
  
‘He better be!’ the old lady exclaimed. ‘We’ve got enough young people dying here as it is.’  
  
That did the job of stopping Erik’s laughter.  
Nicky carefully put down the candle he was considering.  
  
‘Seth Gordon wasn’t the first?’ Aaron of all people spoke up.  
  
Andrew had no idea Aaron had remembered.  
Had cared.  
  
The old lady shook her head.  
The few lit candles on the table cast an eerie light on her face, the shadows distorting her features until she looked  
not-real.  
  
‘Not by a long shot,’ the old lady said. ‘At least one teenager dies every year.’  
  
The wind blew harshly.  
Goosebumps raised on Andrew’s arm.  
  
‘At—At least?’ Nicky asked weakly.  
  
The old lady nodded. ‘So take good care of those.’  
  
Nicky cast Aaron and Andrew a nervous glance.  
Children were laughing somewhere,  
their shrill voices piercing through the thick silence.  
  
‘Thank you, uh, for the explanation,’ Nicky said, then turned to Erik. ‘Shall we move on?’  
  
‘Lead the way, babe,’ Erik said.  
  
They were silent as they walked past the different stands. Most were adorned with lights and ornaments and other knick knacks Nicky would’ve surely wanted.  
If not for the old lady.  
  
‘At least you didn’t buy anything,’ Aaron said.  
  
Nicky froze.  
Then he turned around sharply. ‘It’s not funny!’

Aaron shrugged. ‘I didn’t say it was.’  
  
Erik rubbed Nicky’s back soothingly. ‘Let’s find something to eat, shall we?’  
  
The music on the corner of the street swelled,  
the violin singing a beautiful and eerie note until all the other instruments fell quiet.  
  
Nicky closed his eyes briefly,  
then nodded.  
  
‘Let’s find something to eat,’ he said with forced cheer.  
  
Andrew briefly wanted to strangle the old lady.

This was his family.  
This was Nicky’s dream.  
And he would fight for it.  
  
🌕  
  
They found a stand in the local park that sold hot dogs and potato swirls and hamburgers. Erik treated them to whatever they wanted, and it seemed like that cheered Nicky up enough.  
  
‘Feels like a date,’ he giggled, as he accepted the hot dog Erik handed him.  
  
Aaron snorted. ‘Point taken.’  
  
‘Oh noooo, I didn’t mean that you—’ Nicky started, but his voice drifted away as Andrew walked away towards one of the park benches.  
  
He brushed the brown leaves off the bench and sat down.  
Above him,  
the sound of feathers.  
  
Andrew looked up and noticed the black wings and sharp beak.  
The raven called out once, loudly, then flew off.  
  
Hm.  
  
Andrew took a bite of his potato swirl and watched Nicky and Aaron bicker, while Erik laughed at them both, his arm snuggly around Nicky’s shoulder.  
  
There had been a time when Andrew hadn’t allowed himself to care enough about anything.  
  
Because he knew people didn’t really want his love.  
They wanted to use him,  
and they would take what they wanted,  
regardless of whether or not Andrew wanted to give.  
  
_He hadn’t wanted to_.  
  
Then,  
he hadn’t thought he would be around long enough to care,  
so why even start?  
  
Andrew didn’t like revisiting that part.  
It was in the past.  
  
Eventually,  
finally,  
or whatever fucking adverb you wanted to use,  
he found that living without a purpose was boring as fuck  
and if he was going to stick around,  
he might as well give himself something to do.  
  
So he made promises  
and deals  
and he kept them.  
  
And he was good at keeping them.  
  
Until Nicky told him he’d rather Andrew stay,  
he’d rather Andrew care,  
because he _wanted_ to.  
  
It didn’t fix shit.  
But it changed Andrew’s way of thinking  
and _that_ started slowly changing his every day.  
  
Andrew bit off more potato.  
  
He watched Aaron point towards something.  
He couldn’t quite see what, because suddenly there was a flash of _  
__orange_  
and Andrew’s head whipped around like he’d been conditioned.  
  
A soft orange disappeared behind a tree a little farther away.  
  
He shouldn’t.  
  
Shouldn’t was so fucking boring though.  
  
Andrew bit off the last of his potato swirl, put the stick on the table and took off after the orange. It couldn’t be the fox, could it?  
It would never get so close to people.  
  
But what the fuck did Andrew know,  
he was no expert on foxes.  
  
He dodged a group of girls who were talking and laughing loudly,  
each holding a softly glowing lantern.  
  
Andrew had seen the stands selling them.  
Paper lanterns.  
Be your own firefly, or some bullshit.  
  
He neatly swerved around one of his teachers.  
Seemed like everyone was at the festival.  
  
The music sounded far away now,  
like a reminder of pleasant times,  
and the sound of ravens in the trees rose with every step Andrew took into the woods and away from the park.  
  
But the flash of orange kept going deeper into the woods,  
so Andrew flipped off the birds  
and kept going.  
  
In no time his boots were wet from the undergrowth and dead leaves,  
but Andrew didn’t care.  
Of all the things to care about, that wouldn’t be it.  
  
The tail slipped behind another tree  
and another  
and Andrew almost stopped chasing it  
because what the fuck was he doing?  
But there was something about this place that was weird  
and there was something about the fox that…  
that Andrew hadn’t figured out yet.  
  
And then the forest changed.  
  
One second it was a dark place with dead leaves and black feathers,  
and the next it was alive with little pinpricks of light.  
  
Fireflies.  
  
They bathed the trees and the leaves and the branches in a mesmerizing dark blue.  
  
Andrew stopped  
and looked at the sky.  
  
The full moon hung heavy and nearly blindingly white amidst a thousand stars.    
  
Fireflies danced across the night sky,  
in front of Andrew’s face,  
against his skin, his hands.  
  
Andrew needed to force himself to blink.  
  
When he looked down,  
a pair of white eyes stared back at him.  
  
And Andrew may not know much about foxes, but he knew they didn’t have white, reflective eyes.  
  
Andrew met the fox’s stare.  
And then he took a step forward.  
  
Branches snapped underneath his boot,  
and the fox startled  
and ran away.  
  
Andrew sighed.  
  
‘The festival isn’t here,’ Neil Josten said, startling two years off of Andrew’s life.  
  
He turned around sharply,  
only to inhale sharply at the sight of Neil, bathed in moonlight.  
  
His skin seemed to be glowing,  
like he was a fucking firefly himself.  
  
‘What are you doing here?’ Neil asked.  
  
There was nothing soft about his voice,  
nothing scared or subdued.  
  
It rang clear and true through the midnight blue forest,  
and it seemed to make the fireflies dancing around humm with… something.  
  
Andrew narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m not alone.’  
  
‘True.’  
  
Neil lifted his hand  
and a bunch of fireflies flocked to it like the whole moth metaphor all over again.  
They settled on his glowing skin.  
  
‘I thought the name was bullshit,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘There used to be more,’ Neil said, staring entranced at the fireflies on his hand. ‘Two hundred years ago there were fireflies everywhere.’  
  
‘You don’t look that old.’  
  
Neil looked up in surprise. ‘I’m not.’  
  
Light danced across Neil’s face,  
but instead of creating haunting and distorted shapes that barely resembled a face anymore,  
it seemed like every single inch of Neil came into focus,  
one by one.  
  
Allowing Andrew to remember it all.  
  
‘Did you see the fox?’ he asked, trying to shake himself out of his thoughts.  
  
Neil took in a sharp breath, his eyes flitting away.  
  
Andrew wondered if Neil would run,  
if he took a step closer.  
  
‘I saw it,’ Neil said finally. Reluctantly.  
  
‘Did you see its eyes?’ Andrew pressed.  
  
Again, Neil’s eyes flitted away,  
as if he was searching for a believable answer.  
A believable lie.  
  
Andrew wanted to take a step closer,  
to know more about this strange fucking mess,  
but as soon as he even _thought_ about moving,  
Neil’s gaze snapped back to him.  
  
‘Why did you follow the fox?’  
  
‘Because it’s following me,’ Andrew said. Guessed.  
  
Neil stared at him.

There was confusion and disbelief in his eyes.  
Or maybe those were just the fireflies,  
dancing around him.  
  
There were many questions Andrew should ask,  
but instead he waited  
and waited  
and waited  
until Neil said quietly, ‘That’s not normal.’  
  
Holding Neil’s gaze  
and his answer,  
Andrew took a careful step closer.  
  
Neil didn’t move.  
  
So Andrew took another.  
And another  
and another  
until there was barely any space between them.  
  
Neil dropped his hands,  
and fireflies flew into the air like snowflakes in a storm.  
  
Andrew watched the pinpricks of light swirling around Neil.  
  
‘No. It isn’t,’ he answered.  
  
Neil swallowed.  
But he held Andrew’s gaze.  
  
And it fucking hurt.  
The way Neil looked in the moonlight.  
And the way that made Andrew feel.  
  
It was fucking dangerous,  
whatever was pounding in his chest  
and stirring low in his stomach.  
  
🌕  
  
The rest of the festival didn’t feel real,  
nor did the next morning.  
  
His dreams were filled with fireflies and bright blue eyes and the question  
_why did you follow the fox?_  
  
Throwing his blanket off himself,  
Andrew sat up and pushed his hands into his eyes.  
  
Colours burst across his vision  
and no, fuck, that reminded him too much of the fucking fireflies.  
  
He took a deep breath.  
And another.  
Then he walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, setting the water’s temperature to burning.  
  
Fog drifted through the bathroom.  
  
Andrew chucked off his clothes and got under the scalding stream.  
  
It hurt,  
but not too bad.  
  
Not bad enough,  
he noticed,  
when his mind started drifting back to last night.  
  
The water was burning hot,  
yet the heat inside him was worse.  
  
Andrew punched the white bathroom tiles  
and watched the red streaks drip down.  
  
🌕

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; "The squeak of sneakers on tiles and the laughter of boys filled the cafeteria." 
> 
> Finally!  
> The festival. 
> 
> I hope you liked this chapter :) Let me know what you thought, if you want, and thank you so so much for reading! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> Gosh those Billie Eilish lyrics are sure giving me andreil feels. 
> 
> "You didn't mean to say "I love you"  
> I love you and I don't want to, ooh"
> 
> Listen to the song (i love you - billie eilish) if you have the time! And have feelings!  
> Or you can read this chapter hahah. 
> 
> Enjoy!

But he wasn’t the only one who brought bruises with him to school.  
  
It happened so fast,  
that later, when he was sitting in the principal’s office, he couldn’t say his body acted before his mind did,  
because that was fucking embarrassing.  
  
Andrew walked towards the sweets section of the cafeteria, tray in hand and eyes already searching for that flash of colour,  
even though he told himself to fucking not to.  
  
He tightened his grip on the tray.  
It made his split knuckles ache.  
  
Good.  
Remember the—  
  
The squeak of sneakers on tiles  
and the laughter of boys  
filled the cafeteria  
and Andrew’s head snapped to the commotion.  
  
Douchebag had pulled Neil’s hoodie.  
The thing had torn,  
Neil had fallen down,  
and bruises.  
  
Bruises, bruises, bruises.  
  
Where yesterday Neil’s skin had glowed,  
now it looked like someone had decided to clean his house and use Neil’s arms as rags.  
  
The burning red and blue distorted the plains of Neil’s arm in a way that twisted Andrew’s stomach.  
  
‘Oh shit!’ Douchebag said, not two seconds later. ‘Looks like you got some new lovin’!’  
  
Andrew didn’t hesitate.  
  
Five steps  
and he was standing in front of Neil.  
One breath  
and he swung his tray.  
  
It connected with douchebag’s face with a sickening _crunch_  
and then blood sprayed all over the tray, Andrew, and douchebag’s face.  
  
Broken nose.  
  
Andrew laughed. ‘Watch out. Here comes the other hit.’  
  
He could see douchebag’s friends rushing towards them, but they were nowhere near fast enough to prevent Andrew’s second hit.  
  
It felt so much better when it was his own fist.  
  
Douchebag’s head snapped back  
and he gurgled something bad.  
  
‘What was that?’ Andrew asked. He couldn’t get the smile off his face but who cared. ‘Was it an apology? Because I couldn’t hear.’  
  
Douchebag’s friends quickly pulled their sorry excuse of a friend off the ground. They were all looking at Andrew with fear in their eyes. ‘You’re fucking sick!’  
  
Mm.  
  
Andrew wiped his hand on his shirt.  
There was already a lot of blood on his clothes.  
Not as much as on douchebag’s, of course.  
  
When he looked up, douchebag was getting dragged away by his friends.  
  
‘Hey,’ Andrew called out. ‘Mess with Neil again.’  
  
The friends looked at him with wide eyes.  
  
‘I dare you,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Fuck you,’ one of the friends said, and they continued dragging the unconscious douchebag away.  
  
Andrew watched them go,  
then slowly turned around.  
  
From the corner of his eye,  
he could see the tall guy from the flyer staring at him. He looked like he had wanted to intervene. It nearly made Andrew laugh again.  
  
And then his attention was on Neil  
and those horrible bruises  
and those surprised blue eyes.  
  
‘What’s that?’ he asked, gesturing to Neil’s arm.  
  
Neil slowly looked down,  
watched his arm for a few seconds,  
and then burst out laughing.  
  
It was a sound unlike any other.  
Fuck.  
  
It wasn’t exceptionally pretty,  
and it didn’t ring clear at all.  
It was like an instrument that had been left in the cold, in the warmth, in the damp night air. It hadn’t been used for _ages_ and it sounded horrible and yet.

And yet,  
underneath it,  
you could still hear the beautiful sounds it would, could, should produce.  
  
‘I think I should ask _you_ that question,’ Neil smiled.  
  
‘Those bruises aren’t a joke to me.’  
  
The smile slowly dripped off Neil’s face,  
like a water drop off a window.  
  
‘That’s not why I—’ he paused, and his eyes flitted past Andrew, and suddenly there was a harsh voice.  
  
‘Mr. Minyard, principal’s office.’  
  
🌕  
  
The principal not so kindly told Andrew that violence wasn’t tolerated and if he were to ever commit such a horrible act again, he’d be suspended. If not expelled.  
  
Oh, and to go visit the school counsellor.  
  
Never mind that those bruises on Neil’s arm were an act of violence the school chose to turn a blind eye to,  
something Andrew thought was way fucking worse.  
  
He stared at the boring, grey door in front of him.  
The nameplate said, _Betsy Dobson. Counsellor.  
  
_ Andrew’s mind said, _here we go again._  
  
But it was better than going to classes.  
  
Andrew pushed open the door.    
  
Betsy was working on a crossword puzzle when he entered her office, and Andrew could see by her momentarily dazed look that she had been getting way too into it.  
  
‘Oh! Andrew Minyard, right?’ she asked. ‘Please, take a seat.’  
  
Andrew did.  
  
‘So,’ she started, quickly clearing away the puzzle books. She wiped what looked like cookie crumbs off her desk. ‘Sorry,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I’ve always enjoyed my afternoon snack. I think I might have some left. Do you want some?’  
  
No class _and_ free cookies.  
Punching douchebag until the blood spurted over his face turned out to be even more rewarding than Andrew had thought.  
  
He accepted the chocolate chip cookie Betsy handed him.  
  
‘So why are you in my office, Andrew? Is it alright if I call you that?’  
  
Because she’d given him a cookie and no judgement, so far, Andrew answered. ‘I broke someone’s nose.’  
  
Betsy blinked. ‘Oh, and—’  
  
‘And then I hit him again,’ Andrew said, taking another big bite of the cookie.  
  
Betsy’s office was quiet.  
Andrew could hear himself chew.  
  
To some it might be a painful silence,  
but Andrew quite enjoyed it.  
  
‘So what did he do?’ Betsy asked.  
  
‘Does it matter?’  
  
‘I’d say so. Though violence is never the answer, it can be an understandable one.’  
  
‘Do you?’ Andrew asked boredly. ‘Do you understand violence?’  
  
Betsy thought about his question. ‘Well, I certainly know that I want to slap the principal.’  
  
_Oh?  
_ Andrew sat up a little straighter.  
  
‘He was a bully,’ he answered. Betsy nodded. ‘And nobody was doing anything. So I did.’  
  
‘I see,’ Betsy said. She wrote something on her notepad. ‘Well, how about this. You come back for a few more sessions, I’ll bring more cookies, and I’ll tell the principal we’re working through some of your issues?’  
  
Andrew raised a finger. ‘And you answer my questions.’  
  
Betsy smiled. ‘Sure thing.’  
  
She turned her attention to the computer and started typing out their agreement. Andrew watched her do so with mild curiosity.  
She’d accepted his truth without question.  
Stupid.  
  
Unless she’d been here a long time.

Unless bullying was never stopped at Black Creek High.  
And she knew, or guessed, what was going on.  
  
What more did she know?  
Andrew couldn’t wait to find out.  
  
🌕  
  
The boring grey door closed behind him with a soft _click_.  
  
Andrew took three steps,  
and then he saw it.  
  
A flash of orange from the corner of his eye.  
  
He turned towards it,  
because of fucking course he did.  
  
Leaning against the lockers,  
Neil’s orange clashed angrily with the red metal  
  
Andrew immediately noticed the state of Neil’s hoodie.  
  
It was in this sort of in between state,  
and if you liked philosophy, you could argue that because it was hanging in fucking tatters and was in no way serving its purpose, it wasn’t even a hoodie anymore.  
  
‘How was the shrink?’ Neil asked. A heavy layer of sarcasm coated his voice.  
  
Not as heavy as the bruises peeking through the tears in his hoodie though,  
coating his arm in the worst possible way.  
  
Andrew had enough.  
  
He grabbed the edge of his own hoodie and pulled it over his head without hesitation.  
He felt his shirt underneath get dragged up too, and something inside him was curious if Neil would even react.  
  
It was strangely satisfying  
to see Neil’s wide eyes.  
  
Without a word, Andrew closed the distance between them  
and pressed his black hoodie against Neil’s chest.  
  
‘Here,’ he said.  
  
Neil stared at him. ‘What?’  
  
Again,  
Neil’s stare felt like someone turned on the central heating inside Andrew’s body.  
It felt comfortable and warm and it made Andrew’s throat dry.  
  
So he let go of the hoodie.  
  
As predicted, Neil’s hands came up to catch it before it fell to the ground.  
  
Andrew gave Neil a look that was too warm, because, fuck, it took a while to cool down,  
and then walked down the hallway and out the school.  
  
The harsh autumn wind was unforgiving on Andrew’s bare skin, but his armbands warded it off a little.  
  
Andrew eyed the spots of black in the trees,  
and noticed with interest there were fewer ravens than before.  
Whatever that may mean.  
  
He stepped outside,  
but before the door could swing shut behind him,  
hands caught it.  
  
A flash of orange in the corner of his eye.  
  
Andrew’s heart skipped a beat,  
even though it knew better than to do that.  
  
🌕  
  
Renee was, again, reading a book as they entered the library.  
Judging by her double take,  
Neil had decided to wear Andrew’s hoodie.  
  
Andrew didn’t stop for an explanation.  
He walked straight to the little hidden corner with the comfortable leather couch,  
and let himself fall on it.  
  
Neil was close behind. He probably also didn’t want to explain why he was wearing a hoodie covered in blood.  
  
‘I feel like I should say thank you,’ Neil said.  
  
‘You shouldn’t,’ Andrew replied, staring boredly at the bookcases in front of them.  
  
‘I’ll wash the hoodie?’ Neil said, only it sounded like a question.  
  
Andrew didn’t bother responding.  
If there was anything Nicky didn’t mind, it was buying more clothes for Andrew. He was probably doing Nicky a favour by giving this blood splattered one away.  
  
Less questions, anyway.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Neil fiddling with the torn up hoodie.  
  
‘Why did it happen?’ he asked. ‘Aren’t you _Moriyama property_?’  
  
‘Riko was otherwise engaged,’ Neil said carefully. ‘He stayed home today.’  
  
‘What about the rest of the property?’  
  
Neil scoffed. ‘They won’t do anything unless Riko orders them to.’  
  
Andrew glanced at Neil. ‘Except for you.’  
  
Neil was staring at his hands, at the ruined hoodie between his fingers, but at Andrew’s words, his gaze hardened.  
  
‘I didn’t ask for this,’ he said between clenched teeth. When Andrew didn’t respond, he added, ‘Everyone wants to be special, but being special is dangerous. I never asked to be. I just want—’ he stopped.  
  
He looked surprised by his own words.  
By the honesty.  
  
He shot Andrew an uneasy glance that Andrew didn’t care for.  
  
‘I said I’d listen,’ Andrew said. ‘I didn’t say I would talk.’  
  
‘I’m not used to talking to people.’  
  
‘I’m not people.’  
  
‘You broke a guy’s nose in front of my face.’  
  
‘You’re not scared,’ Andrew said.  
  
It would be so fucking boring if he was.  
  
Neil shook his head. He looked away, frowning, obviously fighting _something_. Then he said quietly, ‘You wouldn’t be either, if you’d seen what I had.’  
  
Andrew snapped his fingers in front of Neil’s face,  
getting his attention back.  
It shouldn’t feel that good.  
But it did.  
  
‘Try me,’ he said.  
  
Neil stared at him.  
Hard.  
  
It shouldn’t be hard to hold his gaze.  
But it was.  
  
Finally, Neil looked away again.  
  
‘No,’ he said. ‘There’s no point.’  
  
So Andrew let it go.  
He leaned back on the couch  
and stared at the books in front of them to avoid pressuring Neil.  
  
Because he wanted to know.  
Fucking problematic.  
  
He could feel the tension beside him,  
could feel Neil watching him apprehensively.  
  
Normally, Andrew wasn’t in a rush to break silences,  
but since today was apparently a breaking sort of day,  
he asked, ‘Have you ever been to church?’  
  
‘What?’ Neil asked. ‘Just like that?’  
  
‘Unless there’s a waiting list I didn’t know about,’ Andrew replied boredly.  
  
‘You’re not gonna ask why not?’  
  
Andrew glanced at Neil. ‘You want me to?’  
  
‘No,’ Neil said.  
  
‘Then it’s no,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil opened his mouth,  
then closed it again.  
  
It took several seconds before he said, ‘The church has been abandoned for years.’  
  
‘I noticed,’ Andrew commented.  
  
This strange place with overgrown pews and coloured sunlight and bibleless o—  
_Wait_.  
Andrew moved to his feet.  
The rows of books in front of him were all dictionaries, so he walked towards the end, seeing the languages change to nature and biology books.  
  
‘Andrew?’ Neil asked, but Andrew paid him no mind.  
  
He knew what he would find,  
and yet he wanted to see for himself.  
  
He searched the rows and rows of books, eyes roving over all their titles, until he finally stopped at the section “ _Religion_ ”.  
  
Empty.  
  
Fucking  
empty.  
  
He knew it.  
  
When he stalked to Renee’s counter, Neil was also there.  
  
‘Where are they?’ Andrew asked. ‘Where are the bibles?’  
  
Instead of fucking answering,  
Renee shot Neil a look.  
  
‘The school doesn’t own any,’ she said finally.  
  
‘There’s a section about religion,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘No,’ Renee said. ‘There’s not.’  
  
Not anymore, no.  
  
Something fucking weird was going on here,  
and it annoyed Andrew that he didn’t know what.  
  
But he thought he knew _who_.  
  
🌕  
  
Andrew and Nicky were watching a movie.  
Or that was what Nicky thought.  
He had no idea Andrew was trying to solve the mystery of Black Creek, Georgia.  
  
There was the murder of Seth Gordon,  
accepted by apparently everyone.  
There was the phrase _Moriyama property_ ,  
which was also accepted, and even feared, by everyone.  
And then there were the people connected to that phrase.  
Riko, who basked in the power, who put it on display like it was an expensive brand of clothes everyone wanted.  
And Neil.  
Who didn’t want any of it, and yet was rewarded with bruises every other week? Every day? Andrew had no idea.  
  
But one thing was clear.  
Riko Moriyama was dangerous.  
  
Andrew should steer clear of him.  
  
But he remembered the bruises on Neil’s arms and the pain in his voice when he said he was always _alone_.  
  
When Andrew had been abused,  
he'd wished someone would listen.  
He'd wished over and over and over again.  
  
Staying away from Riko was smart,  
was _safe_ ,  
but it would mean not listening to Neil.  
  
And Andrew didn’t know if—  
No.  
Fuck that.  
  
Andrew knew he wouldn’t stop listening.  
  
If you could catch someone before they fell,  
would you?  
  
If you could save someone from a burning building,  
would you?  
  
If you could grasp someone’s hand and pull them away from the edge,  
would you?  
  
Andrew’s hands tightened into fists,  
and the old wounds on his knuckles ached dully.  
  
He would.  
  
🌖

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Someone died.’
> 
> Finally SOME feelings are being acknowledged. And bullies got punched. Good times, good times.
> 
> Let me know what you thought if you want! Thank you so much for reading <3
> 
> Oh, if you want to follow me somewhere else, you can do that on tumblr (idnis.tumblr.com) or @idnis9 on twitter! :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> Surprise!  
> Another update, and so soon :D 
> 
> Enjoy!

Monday morning.  
  
First period, Neil was absent from English.   
  
Andrew turned to look at Renee, trying to gauge if she knew anything about it, but when she met his gaze she shrugged questioningly.   
  
Andrew didn’t try to think about how she knew what he was asking.   
  
Second period, gym.  
Another chance for douchebag to get back at Andrew or Neil for their cafeteria stunt.   
  
Feeling on edge, his body ready to fight should it come to that, Andrew walked out of the lockerroom and towards the dull, blue walls of the gym.   
  
He slouched down on the hard benches and observed the rest of the class trickling into the room.   
One by one, douchebag’s friends walked in.   
Until everyone was here.   
  
Everyone,  
except for Neil  
and douchebag himself.  
  
The gym teacher approached the class with an unusual, hard look in her eyes that should’ve told Andrew enough.   
  
But it took her words for him to realize what the absence meant.  
  
‘I’m sorry to inform you all that Jack has committed suicide this weekend. There will be a memorial tomorrow.’  
  
For a second, it felt like Andrew was underwater.   
All sound felt far away. Fuzzy. Like it needed to travel for miles before it reached him.  
  
And then the fear gripped Andrew like a vice,  
burning hotly into his limbs until he had to force himself to relax.  
  
The biggest question should’ve been _why_ ,  
except Andrew’s mind immediately asked _where_ Neil fucking Josten was.   
  
He moved to his feet  
and walked out of gym.  
  
🌖  
  
Waiting until lunch was annoying,  
and by the time the bell rang, Andrew had nearly smoked through his entire packet of cigarettes.  
  
Stinking like smoke and anger,  
Andrew marched towards the cafeteria.   
  
He found Riko immediately, back on his throne, while the rest of his fucking _property_ was staring blankly at their untouched food.  
  
Andrew avoided Riko’s gaze this time, just this fucking once, and made a beeline for Neil’s table.   
Except he nearly fucking paused when he saw the paleness to Neil’s skin and the cuts on his face.  
  
‘What the fuck happened?’ he asked, staring Neil down.  
  
Neil didn’t look up,  
and his voice was slow and rough when he answered.  
  
‘Someone died.’  
  
‘I don’t care about Jack,’ Andrew said.   
  
That finally got a reaction from Neil,  
and rightfully so, because Andrew’s mouth had said the words before even thinking about what they implied.  
  
A lie,  
that was what.  
  
Andrew didn’t care about Neil.  
  
Neil stared at him in surprise. ‘I—’ he paused. Blinked a few times. ‘I fell down the stairs.’  
  
Another lie.  
To match Andrew’s.  
  
Andrew sat next to Neil,  
and turned so he faced him.  
  
‘I won’t listen to lies,’ he said.  
  
Neil breathed in,  
and out.  
  
Then he nodded. ‘But I can’t tell you here.’

Andrew waved his hand to say it didn’t matter where Neil told him,  
only that he did.  
  
‘You already know what happened, don’t you?’  Neil asked quietly.  
  
‘Not everything.’  
  
‘Meet me in the library in an hour.’  
  
Fuck, more waiting.   
  
Andrew looked at Neil.  
At the way his eyes flitted away from Andrew, to somewhere in the middle of the cafeteria.   
At the way his mouth was pressed in a thin line that spoke of stress.  
And lastly, at the way the cuts on his face seemed to be so clean.   
Too clean for an accident.  
  
‘An hour,’ Andrew agreed.  
  
🌖  
  
Andrew’s leg was bouncing up and down as he stared at the dictionaries in front of him. The library’s old wooden floor creaked beneath his boots.  
The air smelled heavily of old paper.  
  
Finally,  
a flash of orange in the corner of his eye.  
  
Neil looked nervous.  
And something else.   
Something that slipped through the frazzled static of his nerves.   
  
Before Andrew could clearly see the fear,  
Neil sat beside him and quickly opened his bag.   
  
Of all the things Andrew wanted to see appear out of that bag,  
his hoodie wasn’t it.  
  
He stared at it.  
  
‘I washed it,’ Neil said, holding it out.  
  
Andrew pushed his hand back. ‘Keep it.’  
  
‘Why—’  
  
‘One of yours got ruined. Now tell me what’s going on.’  
  
Neil stared at the hoodie in his hands,  
before taking a deep breath and packing it away.  
  
‘Riko—’ he stopped. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, look Andrew in the eye. ‘Riko did—’   
  
Again, Neil stopped.  
  
If Andrew looked closely,  
he could almost see the words on Neil’s lips.   
  
‘Sorry, I—’ Neil started, but Andrew cut that shit down right away.   
  
His hand shot out—and Neil’s flinch was painful, fuck, Andrew should’ve known better—then pressed two fingers against the pulse in Neil’s neck.  
  
‘Neil,’ he said, and Neil looked up. ‘You’re not afraid.’  
  
The fear in Neil’s eyes burned out like a cigarette crushed underneath Andrew’s boot.   
  
There was not even a single spark left.  
  
Good.  
  
Andrew leaned back but before he could,   
Neil’s own hand shot up, grabbed Andrew’s,   
and pressed his fingers against his neck again.  
  
Andrew could feel Neil’s steady heartbeat.  
  
Hm. Maybe he’d crushed the fear too well.   
  
Still, he kept his fingers pressed against Neil’s throat, feeling Neil’s voice find its way through his throat and out his mouth.   
  
It was a pleasant vibration against his skin.  
_No, no, he didn’t care_ —  
  
‘Riko uses me,’ Neil said. ‘Everyone knows, they just can’t do anything about it.’  
  
‘They have voices.’  
  
‘Not around Riko they don’t. He has… a certain power. It’s dangerous to go against his wishes.’  
  
_His wishes_.   
What the fuck.  
  
‘What about Seth Gordon?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Neil froze. His eyes flickered away from Andrew’s face, but Andrew tapped a finger against Neil’s pulse to get his attention back.  
  
‘Seth knew too, except he didn’t care,’ Neil said. His voice sounded harsh. ‘He liked that Riko always picked me. Said it was safer for the rest if he used me.’  
  
‘And now he’s dead,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil didn’t flinch.  
He just nodded.  
  
Staring into his jarringly blue eyes,   
Andrew brushed a finger against a cut on Neil’s throat.  
  
‘And this,’ he said. Asked. Wanted to know.  
  
_But he didn’t care._ _  
__He didn’t.  
_  
‘A side effect,’ Neil answered quietly.  
  
‘Of?’  
  
‘Of Riko getting what he wants.’  
  
Andrew stared at Neil.   
Hard.  
He half expected spots to dance in front of his eyes; the effect of staring into a spotlight for too long.   
  
But there were no fireflies dancing between them,  
and Neil’s words made less sense than they had in the midnight forest.  
  
🌖  
  
The sound of Nicky and Erik talking and laughing while cooking dinner was a soft one.   
  
Andrew’s thoughts weren’t soft.  
Hadn’t been in ages.  
Had never been, maybe.  
  
Sitting on the living room couch, Andrew dissected his conversation with Neil.  
  
What Riko wanted was power,  
that much was obvious.  
  
Power could be sex.  
But it seemed unlikely.   
There wasn’t a depth to Neil’s eyes that spoke of a hole that could probably never be filled.  
And he’d wanted Andrew’s touch. Against his neck.  
  
And the cuts had looked too clean,  
Riko’s hand on Neil’s shoulder hadn’t made Neil freak out,  
etc. etc.   
  
Andrew felt he could safely rule out sexual abuse.  
  
Something inside him unwound a little.  
Relief.  
  
In the kitchen, Nicky giggled loudly. ‘Erik, Andrew’s in the living room!’   
  
Erik whispered something back that was low and warm, and it was followed by more of Nicky’s giggles.  
  
So if it wasn’t sex,  
what made those bruises on Neil’s arm a mere _side effect_?  
  
Aaron came downstairs, but paused near the kitchen. ‘You’re cheerful, considering someone died.’  
  
Nicky and Erik’s laughter died down.  
_For fuck’s sake._  
  
‘W-what?’ Nicky asked. ‘Do you mean Seth Gordon?’  
  
Andrew moved to his feet, fully prepared to strangle Aaron.  
  
‘No, I meant that other kid. Jack something.’  
  
Erik paled. ‘Who?’  
  
Andrew put his foot on the bend in Aaron’s knee and _pushed_. Aaron’s leg buckled and he swore softly, glaring at Andrew. ‘What the fuck?’  
  
‘Ruin your own life,’ Andrew said boredly.  
  
‘What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’  
  
Andrew didn’t bother responding, but Erik did.  
  
‘Aaron’s life has been going quite well, hasn’t it? I heard you laughing on the phone last night at 2.’  
  
Andrew watched his brother blush fiercely.  
  
‘So? I’m not the only one!’ Aaron said defensively. ‘Andrew’s been hanging out with this guy from school.’  
  
All the blood left Andrew’s face.   
The exact opposite of his twin.  
  
He knew being defensive was worse, so he just shrugged and turned to go back to his room.  
  
‘Whaaaaat,’ Nicky said.  
  
‘Oh, dinner’s almost ready,’ Erik called after him.  
  
‘Andrew, don’t flee from this!’ Nicky exclaimed.  
  
🌖  
  
After dinner,   
Andrew couldn’t sleep.  
  
That wasn’t unusual.  
  
What was unusual,  
was Nicky knocking on his door, asking if he was still awake.  
  
Andrew opened the door.  
  
‘Sorry,’ Nicky said. ‘I just want to talk a bit, if that’s okay?’  
  
Andrew nodded, and moved back to his bed.  
  
‘You know, it’s actually kind of cosy, your room,’ Nicky noted. ‘I thought for sure the black wall wouldn’t work, but somehow—’  
  
‘Nicky.’  
  
‘Right.’ Nicky sat on his desk chair. ‘Sooo. You know the LGBT group? So I kinda want to uh get word out. But I don’t know how. I made flyers and everything, because I think word to mouth isn’t gonna work, but I thought maybe… Maybe you could hang these up at your school too?’  
  
Andrew would, but. ‘Why not ask Aaron?’  
  
‘He cares more about his image than you do.’ Nicky laughed awkwardly. ‘That feels like a shitty thing to say. I don’t mean that it’s bad, just that he’d probably hate it if people thought he was gay or something.’  
  
‘Okay,’ Andrew promised.  
  
Nicky smiled. ‘Thank you.’  
  
He moved to his feet, but paused near the door. ‘It would mean a lot if you’d come to the group’s first meeting. But you don’t have to. Just. You know. Think about it?’  
  
Did Nicky suspect?  
Did it matter?  
  
Andrew nodded.  
  
‘Good night,’ Nicky smiled.  
  
🌖  
  
Douchebag’s memorial wasn’t very touching.   
  
The only redemption Andrew was willing to give Jack Barfield was the fact that his friends were actually crying, their faces pale and their eyes red as tears fell from their eyes.   
  
Sitting in the front row, surrounded by his usual sea of black, which was expanded just for today,  
was Riko Moriyama.   
  
Andrew wished he could have a moment with him alone.   
Stab him a little.  
A lot.  
  
Then Betsy Dobson, Andrew’s new psychologist, walked on stage and offered her office and ear to everyone who needed help grieving.   
  
Nobody needed help grieving, Andrew thought.   
They needed help grieving _healthily_.  
Because apparently cutting up your arms and taking drugs wasn’t a healthy way to grieve your innocence.  
  
When the service was over and everyone stood,  
Andrew remained seated.   
His eyes were glued to Riko’s back, observing the way he gracefully moved to his feet; the way the orphans around him waited until he moved, before they did.   
  
And then Riko turned,  
and his dark eyes cut through Andrew like a pin through a dead moth.   
Like Andrew was suddenly put on display.  
  
_Let’s do this_.  
  
Andrew stood,  
and waited with his hands in his pockets for Riko to come to him.  
  
‘The second Minyard,’ Riko said, because he was a dick.  
  
‘Riko.’  
  
‘Such a tragedy, isn’t it?’  
  
‘I heard this was daily business here.’  
  
Riko’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Now where would you hear that?’  
  
‘At the festival. You know of it?’  
  
Riko’s suspicion immediately melted away like snow before a fucking flamethrower. ‘I’m so glad you visited the festival.’ _Liar_. ‘How was the midnight stroll with Neil?’  
  
Andrew’s hands tightened into fists in his hoodie,  
the only sign he was ready to detach Riko’s head from his body.  
  
‘Enlightening,’ Andrew said.  
  
Riko’s gaze pierced through him for a second, then he threw his head back and laughed. ‘Oh, I see. Everyone, he made a joke! Enlightening, he says, because of the fireflies.’  
  
There was nervous laughter from behind Riko,  
and judging by the clenching of Riko’s jaw, it wasn’t living up to his _wishes_.  
  
‘How inconsiderate of you,’ Andrew said. ‘Laughing at someone’s memorial.’  
  
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I feel that laughter is always the best medicine.’  
  
_Riko was so full of shit_. ‘Yes, your property looks like they laugh all the time.’  
  
‘But you shouldn’t take too much medicine, Andrew,’ Riko said, feigning concern. ‘That could be deadly. You could overdose.’  
  
The cold crawled through Andrew’s veins, quickly spreading through his entire body.  
  
_It had been an accident._   
_Years ago_.  
  
‘I don’t take medicine,’ Andrew said through clenched teeth.  
  
‘Good.’ Riko took a step closer and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘But Nicky does, and I would hate for him to get ill.’  
  
The knife was out of Andrew’s armband before Riko could react.   
Andrew pressed the tip hard enough against Riko’s stomach to pierce the skin.  
  
But there was no blood.  
  
Andrew pressed harder.    
He watched the knife sink deeper,  
and still Riko wasn’t bleeding.  
  
He looked up in confusion,  
and found Riko watching him with _glee_.  
  
‘Yes, go on,’ Riko whispered. ‘Press harder.’  
  
A gurgle behind Andrew.  
  
He whipped around,  
the knife slipping out of Riko’s stomach,  
and watched in horror the red spreading across Neil’s white shirt.  
  
Neil groaned,  
shaking hands coming up to cover the wound.  
  
Andrew whirled around, ready to—  
Ready to what?  
_Hurt Neil?  
_No. No fucking way.  
What the fuck was going on?  
  
Riko moved past him, clapping him amicably on the shoulder. ‘Don’t ignore my advice, Andrew.’  
  
The flock of black followed after him,   
pushing past Andrew until his nerves were strung so tightly he was nearly shaking.  
  
Neil groaned. ‘Andrew.’  
  
But there was no time for his own shit.  
  
Andrew moved in front of Neil to shield the wound with his body. ‘We’re going away,’ he said.  
  
Neil nodded.  
  
‘Can you walk?’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Neil groaned. ‘Get me to Renee.’  
  
Andrew knew there was no time for questions.  
But oh, did he have them.  
  
🌖

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Andrew,’ Renee warned.  
> ‘No,’ Andrew said. 
> 
> .... msorry
> 
> I hope you have/had a nice weekend though! Thank you so much for reading :D  
> Let me know what you thought, if you want!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> Did you know,, DID YOU KNOW,,, this chapter is exacTLY 3333 words long!!! 
> 
> !!!
> 
> anyway, enjoy 🌼

This time, Renee didn’t calmly put away her book.  
  
As soon as Andrew and Neil stumbled through the old library doors, she was on her feet and guiding them towards the couch in the back.  
  
‘What happened?’ she asked in an unsteady voice.  
  
‘Riko,’ Andrew said.  
  
He watched as she pulled Neil’s shirt up,  
beating to death the warmth pooling in his stomach at the plains of Neil’s bare skin.  
It was easy.  
Because after his eyes turned away from the bleeding wound, he saw the scars littered across Neil’s chest.  
  
‘What’s that,’ he said calmly.  
  
Neil groaned and tried to pull his shirt back down again.  
  
‘Neil,’ Renee said softly. ‘I’m sorry, but I need to see the wound.’  
  
‘Just get started on the spell,’ Neil said and hold the fuck up.  
  
‘Spell?’ Andrew repeated.  
  
‘I don’t know how deep the wound is,’ Renee said. ‘I don’t know how strong it needs to be.’  
  
‘Around 2 inches,’ Andrew said. ‘Now tell me what’s going on.’  
  
Renee looked up. The panic in her eyes was a living thing. ‘Do you want me to tell you, or do you want me to heal Neil?’  
  
It was a stupid question.  
  
Andrew kept his mouth shut and sat back to give Renee more room. Aside from the panic in her eyes and voice, nothing betrayed how stressed she was feeling.  
  
‘Andrew,’ she said. ‘Get my bag from behind the counter. Oh, and three oranges.’  
  
He grabbed both, surprised at the array of seemingly random objects and herbs in flasks and bottles behind the counter. It looked like an apothecary. But for witches.  
  
_No way.  
  
_ He handed Renee the bag, who immediately started rummaging through it. ‘Can one of you tell me exactly what happened? And Andrew, go sit near Neil’s head and hold him down. If this works, this will sting a lot.’  
  
Andrew moved to next to Neil’s head. ‘I stabbed Riko,’ he said. ‘But the knife didn’t hurt him. It hurt Neil.’  
  
Renee stopped moving. Her hands were holding a small knife with an old wooden handle, and she had been cutting up a flower. An orange carnation.  
But now she looked up at Andrew.  
  
‘What?’ she breathed. ‘Why?’  
  
‘Ichiro is back,’ Neil said. ‘He’s at the… at the house.’  
  
Renee seemed to be holding her breath when she nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said calmly. Trying to calm Neil. And herself. ‘Okay.’  
  
She finished cutting up the flower and started mixing it together with all kinds of things. Andrew recognised camomile and coconut oil, mostly by scent. Renee added the oranges last. Once the library was no longer smelling of old wood and paper, she grabbed a small glob of brightly coloured goo and spread it over Neil’s wound.   
  
Neil immediately tensed up,  
and blood flowed freely from the wound.  
  
Andrew could see Renee open her mouth to tell him to relax,  
so he did it for her.  
  
‘Neil,’ he said, and pressed two fingers against the pulse point in Neil’s neck. Same as the afternoon that stank of truths.  
  
Neil looked up at him.  
  
‘Relax,’ Andrew ordered.  
  
There was doubt in Neil’s eyes as he looked at Andrew.  
If he could trust Andrew.  
If he should.  
  
Eventually, he relaxed.  
  
A shiver went through Andrew’s body,  
one he didn’t want to investigate.  
Didn’t need to.  
  
‘Tell me your favourite things,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil frowned. ‘I don’t really—’ He hissed when Renee started spreading the salve again. ‘I don’t…’  
  
‘You’re not this much of a problem,’ Andrew said boredly.  
  
‘Fine. I like grey.’  
  
‘Boring.’  
  
Neil glared at Andrew,  
and it was exactly what Andrew wanted, because Renee was starting to whisper a fucking incantation underneath her breath while rubbing the salve in and Neil needed to not focus on that.  
_Andrew_ needed to not focus on that.  
  
‘I like languages. I speak French, German and I’m working on Spanish right now. Is that better?’  
  
‘Ask me again in another language.’  
  
‘Ist das besser?’  
  
‘Das wird schon so passen müssen.’  
  
Neil’s eyes widened, and Andrew could see him processing the new information. He tapped against Neil’s pulse, bringing him back to the here and now.  
  
‘Continue your list.’  
  
‘There’s not a lot more.’  
  
The way he stared at Andrew was fucking unfair.  
Undeserved too.  
  
It was hard to meet Neil's gaze,  
but getting stabbed was also hard, so Andrew made himself stare blankly back at Neil.  
  
‘I like BBQ chips.’  
  
The answer was so out of left field that Andrew felt the corner of his mouth twitch.  
Until Neil continued.  
  
‘I like to imagine that’s how BBQs are. Even though I know they’re not.’  
  
A barbeque was nothing special.  
But the thought that Neil had never even experienced the awful sensation of salads and breads and men posturing near a grill  
was somehow  
unfair.  
  
‘Done,’ Renee said, breaking through Andrew’s thoughts. She sounded out of breath. ‘How does it feel?’  
  
Neil blinked,  
and finally looked away from Andrew to look down at his stomach.  
  
Andrew felt like he could breathe again.  
  
‘It’s better. Thank you, Renee.’  
  
Smiling, Renee wiped her hair from her face with the back of her hand. She looked tired. ‘You should come shopping with me when I replenish the ingredients. The ones I used to treat a spell Riko shouldn’t have been able to do.’  
  
It was a casual way of asking  
_what the fuck_.  
  
Neil looked kind of uncomfortable by her question,  
which reminded Andrew that he had one of his own.  
  
‘You’re a witch,’ he said to Renee.  
  
Renee said, ‘I prefer Wiccan.’  
  
‘Does Riko prefer Wiccan too?’  
  
‘Riko prefers dark magic,’ Neil said.  
  
All good and well but. ‘How’s that different from hers?’ Andrew asked.  
  
He didn’t believe any of this  
but calling people delusional in front of their faces was a sure way of conflict and Andrew didn’t want that.  
He wanted _answers_.  
  
‘I use the earth,’ Renee explained softly. ‘Plants, herbs, fruits. Sometimes oils. But Riko… He uses people.’  
  
Andrew raised an eyebrow. ‘His property,’ he guessed.  
  
Neil nodded. ‘We’re nothing more than energy for him to tap into.’  
  
‘But you said that spell was impossible for him,’ Andrew pointed out. His eyes flickered to Neil’s stomach, where flower petals and orange peels were hiding the wound from view.  
  
‘It should be,’ Renee said. ‘It’s a voodoo spell. I don’t know much about it, other than that it requires a lot of energy. He shouldn’t have been able to cast it. Unless—’  
  
‘He drained someone of all their energy,’ Neil said.  
  
For a second,  
the library was spinning.  
  
Something that shouldn’t make sense suddenly did.

‘Jack,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Oh my gods,’ Renee whispered, hands flying up to cover her mouth.  
  
Neil refused to meet their gazes.  
  
And it was then that Andrew realised he didn’t believe in this.  
In any of this.  
Witches, wiccans, spells.  
  
‘No,’ he said.  
  
But he’d seen the knife go into Riko’s stomach,  
and yet there hadn’t been a wound.  
And yet there had been a wound in _Neil’s_ stomach, one that perfectly matched the one meant for Riko.  
  
It was impossible.  
  
But it could’ve been coincidence.  
It could’ve been a fucking magical coincidence.  
  
Andrew reached for the flower petals and orange peels and started lifting them away.  
  
‘Andrew,’ Renee warned.  
  
‘No,’ Andrew said. He needed to see.  
  
His nails scratched lightly over Neil’s stomach as he cleared away the last of the goo,  
and the little catch in Neil’s breath was doing funny things to Andrew,  
but not as much  
as seeing Neil’s skin.  
  
No wound.  
  
It wasn’t unmarred,  
but the month old scar should have been impossible.  
  
Andrew ran his finger over the skin.  
  
It was real.  
It looked not-real  
but it was, it was, it fucking was.  
  
He moved to his feet.  
  
There were a thousand thoughts running through his mind  
and Andrew didn’t care for a single one.  
  
He wanted some fucking peace and quiet  
and Neil’s jarringly blue eyes made something inside Andrew so restless  
that he needed to go.  
Now.  
  
So that was what he did.  
  
🌖  
  
Aaron knocked on Andrew’s bedroom door that evening.  
  
‘What,’ Andrew said, not bothering to get up from his bed.  
  
Aaron wandered inside and deposited himself on Andrew’s desk chair. He barely waited a second before he said, ‘Don’t you think something strange’s going on?’  
  
Andrew lifted himself up on his elbows. ‘Define strange.’  
  
Aaron stared disbelievingly at him. ‘I mean the dead people, Andrew.’  
  
‘People die everyday.’  
  
‘You know what I mean. The lady from the festival said young people dying wasn’t unusual. That’s weird. Especially since no one even talked about Seth because he was an orphan? Isn’t that insensitive or something?’  
  
‘What about Riko?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Aaron was silent for a moment. ‘He gives me the creeps.’  
  
Andrew wondered what Aaron would do if he told him what had happened.  
If he told him there were witches and dark magic and spells in Black Creek, Georgia.  
But he knew what would happen.  
Aaron would laugh at him.  
  
‘It’s just. The way Riko watches me fucking creeps me out,’ Aaron continued.  
  
Andrew was suddenly on alert.  
  
‘Watches you how.’  
  
‘Like he knows everything or something.’  
  
Riko’s warning slithered into Andrew’s thoughts.  
  
Without a word, Andrew threw the blankets off and walked towards Nicky and Erik’s bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and rifled through the shaving cream and gel and deodorant until he saw a small bottle.  
Andrew read the label and…  
just some painkillers.  
  
‘Andrew?’ Nicky’s sleepy voice sounded behind him. ‘What are you looking for?’  
  
‘Sleeping pills,’ Andrew said, putting away the bottle of painkillers.  
  
The cabinet closed with a soft click when Nicky said, ‘Oh. How did you know I was taking them?’  
  
Andrew’s head whipped around.  
  
‘Yeah, I’ve been having nightmares,’ Nicky mumbled, rubbing a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry, I should’ve told you guys.’  
  
‘Where are they?’  
  
‘What? The pills?’  
  
Andrew walked past Nicky into the bedroom, where Erik was sitting in bed with reading glasses and a book.  
  
‘Andrew, hi. What’s… wrong?’ Erik asked in confusion, when Andrew started rifling through Nicky’s bedside table.  
  
‘Andrew!’ Nicky exclaimed, but Andrew honestly couldn’t give a fuck about the condoms and lube.

He snatched the brown bottle of pills and walked out again.  
  
‘Andrew, tell me what’s going on!’ Nicky exclaimed, following him out of the bedroom.  
  
Andrew turned and looked at Nicky’s worried expression.  
He knew he was acting weird.  
But rather weird than dead.  
  
‘You stop taking these. Now,’ he said, shaking the bottle of pills.  
  
‘What? But I sleep better with them.’  
  
‘It’s unhealthy,’ Andrew lied.  
  
Erik’s head appeared in the door opening. ‘He’s kinda right, babe. There’s gotta be a better way to help you get over the nightmares.’ His voice softened. ‘Like talking about them.’  
  
Nicky’s gaze fell to the ground. ‘It’s nothing,’ he mumbled. ‘Just some stuff from high school. You know.’  
  
Oh.  
Yeah, Andrew could guess.  
  
‘Nicky,’ he said, getting his cousin’s attention. ‘This is real. Getting what you want after years of working isn’t the easy way. Leaving behind your family and creating a new one isn’t the easy way. But you’re here. Stop punishing yourself for living this life.’  
  
Tears welled up in Nicky’s eyes,  
just like the words spilling over his lips.  
  
‘I’m just—what did I do to deserve this? I’m just so happy and I—I’m so scared something will go wrong.’  
  
But it wouldn’t.  
Andrew wouldn’t let it.  
  
Erik’s arms were around Nicky before he finished the last word,  
and then Erik was whispering into Nicky’s ear and kissing his head and slowly swaying them back and forth.  
  
So Andrew turned away, and walked to the bathroom to flush the pills down the toilet.  
  
🌗  
  
Still.  
  
_How the fuck had Riko known?_ _  
__  
_ Nicky had been trying to keep it a secret.  
But how well could you keep a secret in a small town like Black Creek, Georgia?  
There was probably only one pharmacist. It wouldn’t be hard to check their records, not if you were Riko Moriyama and had too much power.  
  
But if Black Creek, Georgia, worked like that,  
it would work the other way around too.  
  
‘Erik,’ Andrew said the next day during dinner. ‘I want to visit the town hall.’  
  
Erik swallowed his noodles. ‘Absolutely. That’s fun. You can come visit me whenever you want. Same goes for you, Aaron.’  
  
‘Why would I want to visit the town hall?’ Aaron asked. ‘There’s nothing but boring books, town records, and old newspapers there.’  
  
_Exactly._  
  
‘And me,’ Erik said.  
  
‘If you were a book, I’d read you every day for the rest of my life,’ Nicky cooed.  
  
And then realised what he’d said.  
  
Erik’s eyes were wide and soft.  
So soft that Andrew could hardly look at them.  
  
And then Erik leaned in, and kissed Nicky over their teriyaki noodles.  
  
🌗  
  
There were cookie crumbs all over Bee’s desk.  
  
And after a little small talk,  
there were cookie crumbs all over Andrew’s lap too.  
  
‘So,’ Bee said conversationally. ‘Jack Barfield died.’  
  
Andrew waved her words away. ‘Old news.’  
  
‘To most people it isn’t.’  
  
Betsy didn’t sound admonishing when she said it.  
She was just stating a fact.  
Not judging.  
  
‘If you want my compassion, you have to search deeper than that,’ Andrew said.  
  
Bee brushed a few crumbs off the desk. ‘Is it hard for people to have your compassion?’  
  
_It should be_.  
But for some reason, Neil—  
  
Andrew stopped himself.  
  
Instead of answering, he asked, ‘You want to slap the principal. Why?’  
  
‘Oh, you remembered,’ Bee laughed, but her smile dropped quickly. Something sad took its place. ‘It’s simple, really. Principal Brown has never cared about the kids. He only cares about money, and how to please the Moriyama family. The stuff Riko Moriyama gets away with is awful.’ Bee shook her head. ‘I’ve seen kids limping to my office. _Limping_! Because they got into a fight with Riko. While he barely has any scratches on him. No, those are preserved for those poor orphans.’  
  
Bee took a deep breath  
that Andrew recognised as barely controlled anger.  
  
‘Let me guess,’ Andrew said. ‘Riko has never come here.’  
  
‘No, no,’ Bee said. ‘He did. Once. It was a very bad year. Two teenagers died, and one lost his parents in a freak accident and became an orphan. The atmosphere at Black Creek high was painful that year. I remember walking through these hallways and seeing the grief and despair on everyone’s faces. And Riko, who was in his first year, just… lost it. Three kids were sent to the hospital. Luckily they all lived, but I remember the fear on Riko’s face when he sat across from me with his…’ Bee frowned. ‘Brother, I think. I’ve been a counsellor for many years, so I recognise idolisation and neglect when I see it.’  
  
Hm.  
  
‘Such a strange combination too,’ Bee murmured. She brushed her hands over her desk again, though there were no crumbs left.  
  
But it wasn’t.  
  
Wanting something you didn’t have  
was maybe the most human experience.  
  
But whatever it was Riko wanted,  
Andrew would make sure he never got it.  
  
🌗  
  
Nicky’s discreet LGBT posters were hanging everywhere Andrew could possibly stick them. They were partly hidden by extra curricular activity sheets or put around the corners of lockers.  
Somewhere you could see the small rainbow, or read the letters LGBT, and still appear to be looking at something else.  
  
Andrew put away the last of his tape and tacks,  
and was explicitly not thinking about Neil Josten when behind him someone said, ‘You know Riko won’t allow it.’  
  
Andrew turned around slowly.  
  
It was the fucking flyer guy,  
towering over Andrew like he wanted to be intimidating.  
  
Dumbass.  
Like you needed height to be intimidating.  
  
‘Won’t stop what? Posters?’ Andrew asked in mock interest.  
  
‘What the poster is advertising.’  
  
_At least try not to look so fucking scared.  
_  
‘It’s not the fucking chickenpox,’ Andrew said. ‘Not contagious.’ He gave tall guy a once over. ‘Though I guess “chicken” is contagious. It’s in all of your eyes.’  
  
‘You’re dumb if you’re not afraid of Riko,’ tall guy said stubbornly.  
  
‘Or maybe Riko is like the monster under your bed. Terrifying until you turn on the lights. Until you look. Tell me. What do you see when you look?’  
  
Tall guy’s face was not amused.  
  
Andrew leaned in a little closer and raised his eyebrows as he whispered loudly, ‘ _Nothing_.’  
  
‘Monsters under your bed aren’t real,’ tall guy said through clenched teeth. ‘Riko is.’  
  
Andrew stepped back, waving his words away. ‘I don’t know why you bother. I’m not going to listen to your warnings.’  
  
And Andrew had almost turned around and walked away.  
Until tall guy said those cursed words.  
  
‘Because of Neil.’  
  
Andrew paused.  
_He didn’t care, he didn’t care, he didn’t_ —    
  
‘Because of Neil what.’  
  
‘Because it’s unfair how Riko uses him.’  
  
_Fuck_ , as if Andrew didn’t know that.  
He didn’t even know the full extent and yet he could already piece together the sad story that made up Neil’s life.  
  
Fucking BBQ chips.  
  
But.  
  
‘What does that have to do with me,’ Andrew said. Not-asked. Because maybe he wouldn’t get an answer if he didn’t ask.  
  
Tall guy gave Andrew a look that told him he was unimpressed by his lie.  
It was a look tall guy could pull off very well.  
  
‘You know why.'  
  
_Yeah, yeah, yeah.  
  
_Andrew’s jaw clenched. ‘I don’t like you,’ he said.  
  
‘You don’t even know my name.’  
  
‘What’s your name?’  
  
‘Kevin.’  
  
‘Kevin,’ Andrew said. ‘I don’t like you.’  
  
Kevin glared at him.  
  
🌗  
  
Yet Kevin’s words kept floating through Andrew’s mind,  
and Andrew figured that while he might not believe in magic and spells,  
he believed in the loneliness in Neil’s eyes.  
  
So when he came home that day and found Nicky in the kitchen, singing, wearing his favourite yellow apron while marinating some chicken, Andrew said, ‘I want to have a barbeque.’  
  
‘Wha— Like the thing itself?’  
  
‘No. The verb.’  
  
Nicky blinked at him. ‘But it’s October.’  
  
‘Can we?’ Andrew asked.  
  
‘Uh. I mean. Yeah? I guess? It’s gonna be cold to sit outside, and I haven’t really started on our garden because it’s like covered in dead leaves and it’s a lot of work to clear that away… Also because it looks kind of pretty, all those colours, doesn’t it?’  
  
Andrew said, ‘I’m going to bring someone from school.’  
  
‘Now?’ Nicky asked, eyes flickering in panic to the chicken on the kitchen counter.  
  
‘No. At the barbeque.’  
  
‘Oh,’ Nicky said. ‘Yeah? I mean, yeah! Sure. Awesome. Friends?’  
  
He phrased it as a question  
like he was surprised Andrew could interact with people without stabbing them.  
  
Andrew wanted to tell him to look around the house.  
Living examples.  
  
Instead he turned around and went to his room.  
  
🌗  
  
Amidst the colours of the cafeteria,    
Neil’s lonely orange was as noticeable as ever.  
  
Andrew pointedly ignored the black ink stain glaring at him from the center of the cafeteria, and sat at Neil’s table.  
  
‘You’re coming with me. Friday.’  
  
Neil looked up from his gross salad. ‘What?’  
  
‘You heard me. Friday. My house.’  
  
Neil stared at him. ‘Is that a threat?’  
  
Curling his finger, Andrew motioned Neil to lean in closer.  
Neil did, and Andrew absolutely didn’t notice the few strands of hair falling over Neil’s forehead.  
Nor did he calculate the distance between their lips.  
  
Abso-fucking-lutely not.  
  
‘When I threaten you,’ Andrew said lowly, ‘you’ll know.’  
  
Instead of looking afraid or intimidated,  
Neil’s eyes bore into Andrew.  
  
Andrew’s hand itched  
to push, to push Neil away,  
to pull, to pull Neil so much closer.  
  
The choice was taken away from him when Neil leaned back, took another bite of that disgusting green thing, and said, ‘Fine. But if Riko kills me, it’s your fault.’  
  
‘He won’t,’ Andrew said, and it sounded weirdly intense.  
  
Like a promise.  
Like a deal Andrew wanted to keep.  
Except he didn’t do those anymore, did he?  
  
🌗

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; Erik gestured behind him at the door he just exited. ‘Well, follow me. I’ll show you all of Black Creek’s secrets.’
> 
> ... but at what cost, Erik?
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter!!  
> Thank you so much for reading, and let me know what you thought, if you like :D
> 
> AND the translation of those two german sentences:
> 
> "Is this better?" 
> 
> "It will have to do."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!!
> 
> It was so warm today. Almost perfect weather for....... a bbq. 
> 
> (ohh what a smooth transition)  
> (how does she do it)
> 
> Enjoy!

Town hall was a warm, red brick building. It was next to a round little square, where a cafe had put a few tables with vases with dried flowers.   
It looked straight out of a postcard.  
  
It looked not-real.  
  
A screech above his head jostled Andrew out of his staring.   
He looked up and saw an unkindness of ravens sitting in the trees beside and above him. Their black, shiny eyes were staring straight at him, their heads slightly cocked.  
  
‘What,’ Andrew said. ‘You got nothing better to do?’  
  
A large, sleek raven cawed at him.  
  
Andrew glared at it, before he realised that fuck, he was talking to ravens. For good measure, he flipped them off again and then walked to the town hall.  
  
Inside, there was dark wood and big windows and a woman behind a counter, asking, ‘Good afternoon. How can I help you?’   
  
‘I’m looking for Erik Klose,’ Andrew said.   
  
‘You’re looking for Erik?’ The woman’s eyes turned fucking sparkly. Yeah, yeah, Erik was fucking perfect. ‘One moment please.’   
  
She typed in a number on her phone and then asked in a soft and feminine voice if Erik could be so kind as to visit the reception. Whatever Erik said was apparently exceptionally funny, because she giggled and batted her eyelashes.  
  
Finally, Erik emerged from a door opposite the reception. He looked pleasantly surprised to see Andrew.  
  
‘Andrew, hi. You’ve come for the grand tour?’  
  
Andrew nodded.  
  
‘Excellent.’ Erik gestured behind him at the door he just exited. ‘Well, follow me. I’ll show you all of Black Creek’s secrets.’  
  
The woman behind the counter laughed. ‘You’re so good with kids, Erik.’  
  
_Jesus_.  
  
Erik gave her a smile that looked a tiny bit awkward, though still genuine, and then shooed Andrew through the door.  
  
‘Phew,’ he said, when it closed behind them. ‘Lisa is always a bit… much.’  
  
‘You can report her if she gets handsy,’ Andrew said.  
  
Erik laughed nervously. ‘Let’s hope it never comes to that.’  
  
🌗  
  
The excited way Erik showed Andrew around his office and through the archives was almost enough to make Andrew feel bad.   
Almost.  
But not enough.  
  
He needed to know more about Riko Moriyama.  
  
So when the phone rang at Erik’s desk and Erik said apologetically, ‘Sorry, have to answer that. Can you entertain yourself for a while?’ Andrew shrugged and casually wandered away.  
  
Erik’s voice drifted away as he rounded the corner. Andrew immediately dropped the casualness and walked determinedly towards the archives. He’d already asked Erik how the filing system worked, so he walked past rows of bookcases until he found the one about properties and estates.   
Andrew’s fingers brushed past the thick folders,  
_tap tap tap tap_ ,  
until he saw the name Moriyama scribbled on a brown folder.  
  
It was surprisingly light.  
  
Andrew leafed through the papers inside, noting with surprise that the orphanage had been purchased by the Moriyamas in 1960.   
Not too long ago.  
  
Andrew immediately wondered another thing. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos of the folder, though nothing inside looked out of the ordinary, then put the folder away again.  
  
_Births & Deaths_   
the aisle said.  
  
Andrew walked to the back and picked up the folder of 1955. He leafed through it, old yellowed pages shifting through his fingers, and found… nothing. He picked up the following five years, eyes roving over the names and dates, and…  
nothing.  
  
And then he picked up 1960.  
  
Andrew’s hands tightened on the folder,  
the paper rustling beneath his fingers.  
  
Three deaths.  
  
Teenagers.  
  
1961\. Four deaths. Teenagers  
  
1962\. One death. A teenager.  
  
1963\. Two deaths. Teenagers.  
  
And so on. Whenever a year had been particularly bad, the death toll would drop to one. But it was always one.  
Every fucking year, at least one teenager died.  
  
This year the toll was at two, so far as Andrew knew.   
Not an abnormally high number,  
but from what he could gather, there were always months between each death.   
  
Seth Gordon and Jack Barfield died within _weeks_ of each other.  
  
Did this mean there would be no more deaths this year? Andrew reached for last year’s folder, then changed his mind.   
There was a more pressing question,  
one that made Andrew put the folder back and walk to another section of the archives, one labelled _Income_.  
  
Andrew grabbed a random year after 1960.   
He didn’t have to search long.   
Printed in black and white, after a large sum of money, were the words  
_Donation by Moriyama._  
  
Every year, the town of Black Creek, Georgia got a healthy donation from the Moriyama family. It never said a specific name, never detailed why.   
  
Andrew took photos of as many years as he could before he figured he should go back, in case Erik came looking for him.  
  
But Erik was still on the phone,  
so Andrew was left with an apologetic smile  
and a head full of new information.  
  
The Moriyamas were killing people. And paying the authorities to keep quiet. Yet they were no fools, and tried to keep their murder business on the down low as much as they could.  
  
What about the policeman Andrew had seen at school? The one who had apparently come asking questions at the town hall too.  
  
Andrew motioned to Erik he was going,  
and visited Lisa from the reception again.  
  
‘Was there a policeman here, a few weeks ago?’ he asked as soon as she acknowledged him.  
  
Lisa blinked. ‘Uh. Uh, a policeman you say?’ She frowned. ‘That does ring a bell, but I don’t really… Remember? Maybe I wasn’t working that day.’  
  
Andrew stared at her.   
But she just shrugged at him, a frown still etched between her eyebrows. ‘Sorry kid, I probably heard it from someone else.’  
  
_Or your memory has been wiped_.   
  
No, Andrew told himself. No, he didn’t believe in that. So it wasn’t a plausible explanation for the vague worry on Lisa’s face.   
  
So many people forgot.   
  
They weren’t like Andrew.  
They didn’t remember  
_everything_ ;  
hands and mouths and tongues and screams and pleas and bruises and teeth and brown eyes, brown eyes, brown eyes.  
Watching.  
  
Andrew threw the door open and walked out of town hall, only to be greeted by shiny black eyes that watched him from above.  
  
Goosebumps raised on his skin.  
Andrew picked up a stick and threw it at the ravens in the trees. They flew off, screeching loudly and indignantly.   
  
_Served them right._  
  
Except he wouldn’t get the last word.  
Because Andrew had barely left town hall behind when the screeching became louder once again.  
He’d barely turned around before a raven was in his face, its beak pecking at him.  
  
It was chaos.   
Black feathers obscured his vision,  
and a loud screeching disoriented him.  
  
But his knives were where they’d always been.  
  
And Andrew knew them like the back of his hand,  
so it was just like scratching an old itch when he pulled them from his arm bands and slashed at the bird.  
  
It took him three slashes.   
The first two merely brushed past it,  
but the third sank home.   
Right into the bird’s chest.  
  
Its last screech was cut short as it died right on Andrew’s knife. Andrew shook it and the body slid off, hitting the ground with a wet _thud_.   
Andrew slowly looked up,  
looked at the rest of the ravens circling above him, daring them to try the fucking same.   
  
They screeched,  
but not one swooped down.  
  
So Andrew wiped his knife clean on his hoodie and then slid it back, before walking home. He refused to even assess the damage before he was safely at home.   
  
Behind the closed bathroom door,  
he inspected the nasty, pounding wounds on his cheek.  
  
_Fuck_.   
No way he could hide that.  
  
🌗  
  
‘Andrew—’ Neil fell silent as soon as he saw the wounds on Andrew’s face. His hands twitched, but Andrew gave him a warning look.  
  
‘Don’t,’ he said.  
  
Neil dropped his gaze to his lunch.   
A burrito.  
  
‘What—’ Neil whispered, but Andrew interrupted him.   
  
‘I said don’t. Ask me tonight.’  
  
The surprised look on Neil’s face when he looked up  
told Andrew Neil hadn’t thought the invitation had been serious.   
  
Andrew shook his head. ‘Oh, Neil,’ he said. ‘Such a sob story.’  
  
The anger that took over Neil’s blue eyes  
was like a cold shower after a burning day outside in the sun.  
  
🌗  
  
‘Oh god,’ Nicky said, wringing his hands. ‘This week is too exciting for me.’  
  
Aaron snorted, but didn’t look up from his PlayStation game. ‘What,’ he asked. ‘Is it because Andrew’s boyfriend is visiting?’  
  
Andrew debated for a second to open his mouth, but then Nicky said, ‘He’s not his boyfriend, Aaron. And _yes_ , that’s also freaking me out.’  
  
‘Is it Monday?’ Andrew asked. And not-asked if it was the first LGBT group meeting.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Nicky squeaked. ‘I just want to do good, you know.’  
  
‘We know,’ Aaron said. ‘Because you’re already doing good.’  
  
Andrew gave Aaron a look of mild surprise that Aaron missed because he was still playing Spiderman.  
  
And then the doorbell rang.   
  
‘Is that him?’ Erik yelled from upstairs. ‘Shit, I just got out of the shower! I’ll be down in a minute!’   
  
‘Oh god,’ Nicky said, nervously raking a hand through his hair. ‘Don’t leave me alone, Erik!’  
  
‘A minute!’ Erik yelled, and they could hear his footsteps running from the bathroom to the bedroom.  
  
‘Oh god,’ Nicky said again, at which point Andrew decided he would open the door.  
  
Standing amidst their mostly dead front garden,  
was Neil Josten,  
wringing his nearly blue hands.  
  
Andrew stared unimpressed at the cold biting into Neil’s fingers,  
and then noticed Neil was wearing _his_ hoodie.  
  
_Jesus_.  
  
Neil noticed his gaze. ‘Sorry. It’s the nicest thing I own.’  
  
It was like a fucking suckerpunch to the gut.  
  
‘Why the fuck would you need to wear something nice?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Neil gave him a look that said he thought _Andrew_ was the stupid one.  
  
‘I think I still have one with some blood on it. Would that be better?’  
  
Andrew glared.   
Neil glared back.  
  
Nicky appeared behind Andrew then. ‘Hello! Young person! Welcome to my home! I mean, our home.’  
  
Neil’s glare instantly disappeared  
and in its place, something settled that Andrew didn’t care for at all.   
  
_Insecurity_.  
  
Andrew turned around and led the way into the living room. He couldn’t hear Neil following, but Nicky’s nervous chatter did.  
  
As soon as Neil stepped into their living room,  
Andrew saw him scan the room.    
Those blue eyes paused on the doors and windows for a second longer before they glided further,  
and Andrew wanted to stab the interest in his chest like he had with one of those fucking ravens.  
  
Footsteps bounded down the stairs,  
and then Erik appeared, a huge smile on his face as he approached Neil.  
  
‘The guy from the depot!’ Erik said.  
  
‘Depot?’ Aaron asked, craning his head back to peer at Neil.  
  
‘Wait,’ Nicky said. ‘Is that Andrew’s hoodie?’  
  
And then there was silence.  
  
Andrew opened his mouth to try and save this fucking horrible situation,  
when Neil asked, ‘Why are you all wearing coats?’  
  
‘Because we’re going to barbeque!’ Nicky said enthusiastically, pointing towards the glass doors leading into the garden.   
  
Outside was a table with a bright yellow tablecloth draped over it, chairs, and a smoking barbeque.  
Nicky had already put the plates and salads there too.  
  
_‘It won’t even spoil,’_ he’d said in amazement. _‘Andrew, maybe you’re onto something.’_  
  
But Neil probably didn’t even notice the advantages of barbecuing in the autumn.   
His eyes found Andrew’s immediately.  
And they said he knew.  
He knew what this was.  
  
So obviously Andrew ignored the soft look in Neil’s eyes and went outside, expecting the others to follow him.  
  
They did.  
  
🌗  
  
After a weak attempt of posturing near the barbeque, Nicky gave up and instead sat down with the rest of them.   
Erik kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks, babe, but I can also keep an eye on the meat. You can stay and talk if you want.’  
  
Nicky smiled at him. ‘But you’re so much more charming than me.’  
  
Erik looked offended. ‘Lies! You’re speaking lies!’  
  
Nicky giggled, and leaned forward to kiss Erik again.  
  
Neil watched all of this with a strange look on his face.  
Andrew watched Neil watch all of this.  
  
Neil had a green blanket wrapped around his shoulders, because apparently he hadn’t taken a coat with him.  
  
Meanwhile, Aaron was slowly eating his way through the bread.  
  
‘Aaron!’ Nicky said, ‘don’t eat all the bread.’  
  
‘The meat’s taking too long,’ Aaron said. ‘And I need it to keep warm.’  
  
‘So Neil,’ Erik said, and Andrew saw Neil tense up immediately. ‘Do you think McDonalds is a restaurant?’  
  
Immediately, all conversations stopped at the table.  
  
And then Aaron groaned, ‘Not _again_.’   
And Nicky said, ‘Don’t try to rope him into your scheme.’  
And Erik laughed,  
while Neil just looked confused.  
  
‘Uh. No? Isn’t a restaurant somewhere you want to be seen?’  
  
The look on Erik’s face was priceless.  
Like someone had offered him ice cream, only to eat it themselves.  
  
Aaron and Nicky started laughing loudly,  
and to Andrew’s horror, a small laugh escaped his own lips.  
  
‘What?’ Neil asked, looking around. His eyes paused on Andrew, paused on Andrew’s smile, and no way was Andrew dealing with that fucking softness again, so he quickly schooled his expression into something neutral.  
  
Yet Neil kept looking.  
  
And Andrew kept looking.  
  
And it was like someone was pushing on Andrew’s shoulders,  
a firm hand between his shoulder blades,  
_pushing_ ,   
pushing him forward, making him lean towards Neil.  
  
Except the whole fucking family was here and no way was Andrew kissing Neil “die then” Josten.  
  
Andrew jerked back,  
and Neil’s gaze dropped to the ground.  
  
‘It’s an old argument,’ Nicky explained, because Erik was still too devastated to talk. ‘Erik thinks McDonalds is a restaurant, and we think it’s a place to eat food you’ll feel bad about after.’  
  
‘I’ve never eaten at McDonalds,’ Neil said.  
  
The laughter died down,  
as everyone suddenly realised how pathetic Neil’s life was.  
  
Neil raised his eyebrows. ‘There’s no McDonalds around here.’  
  
‘ _Oh_ ,’ Nicky laughed, relieved.  
  
‘You’re not missing anything,’ Aaron said.  
  
‘Hey!’ Erik said, pretending to be offended. ‘See how underappreciated I am, Neil? But it’s fine, I know my job around here.’ And with that he moved to his feet to check on the meat.  
  
A cold wind blew through their back garden, blowing a few orange leaves over the dry grass.   
It was the weirdest weather for a barbeque,  
and everyone was sitting in their coats and scarves,  
and yet it was also… perfect.  
  
Andrew didn’t want to use that word.  
But it was the right one.   
  
The coats, their conversations, the food.  
Neil’s laughter.  
  
It already sounded better than the last time Andrew had heard it.   
It already sounded like one of Andrew’s favourite sounds.  
  
_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck  
  
_🌗  
  
Neil walked around Andrew’s room like a cat in a new house.   
Curious, but cautious.  
  
Andrew leaned against the doorpost and watched Neil take in the black wall, the books on his desk, and the small trinkets on the planks above Andrew’s bed.  
  
Finally, Neil picked up the pack of cigarettes on his bedside table.  
  
‘Didn’t know you smoke.’  
  
‘I’m trying not to.’  
  
Neil put the pack down, then carefully sat on the bed, looking extremely uncomfortable while doing so.   
  
He could’ve taken the desk chair.  
But he didn’t.  
  
Andrew pushed himself off the doorpost and wandered over to Neil.   
Neil was looking at him,   
but when Andrew sat down next to him, he averted his gaze.  
  
‘You weren’t at the library yesterday,’ Neil said. ‘Where were you?’  
  
‘At town hall,’ Andrew said, leaning back on his elbows. It was easier to look at Neil that way.   
  
_Not that he wanted to_ _  
__want.  
  
_Neil looked over his shoulder, surprised. ‘What were you doing there?’  
  
‘Apparently Riko’s family pays a lot of money to keep the murders quiet.’  
  
Neil was silent. Until. ‘You shouldn’t stick your nose in Riko’s business.’  
  
‘Last time I checked,’ Andrew said in a low voice, ‘you were part of that business.’  
  
Neil’s blue eyes burned through him.   
They were like a mirror,  
reflecting all of Andrew’s fire back at him.   
No.   
Not just reflecting.  
Intensifying it.  
  
‘I’m trying not to,’ Neil said, echoing Andrew’s words.  
  
‘Oh, Neil. Comparing yourself to cigarettes.’  
  
‘I know what I’m doing.’  
  
‘Do you?’  
  
‘I know you’re addicted to cigarettes.’  
  
It was a dangerous game Neil was playing,  
sitting there on Andrew’s bed,  
wearing his hoodie,  
wearing that expression on his face.   
Defiant.  
Stubborn.   
Smug.  
  
So Andrew asked again. ‘Do you?’  
  
‘Yes,’ Neil said, leaning forward.  
  
Andrew’s hand shot out and stopped him,  
and when Neil obliged,  
waiting patiently,  
Andrew pressed two fingers against the pulse on Neil’s neck.  
  
Andrew stared into Neil’s eyes as he asked, for the third time, ‘Do you?’  
  
Neil’s heartbeat didn’t waver as Neil replied, ‘Yes.’   
  
So Andrew slid his hand to the back of Neil’s neck   
and pulled him close.  
  
It wasn’t even pulling.  
Neil didn’t need a push or a pull, and Andrew wasn’t waiting for Neil to lean in.  
  
They both surged forward,  
and their lips met in a warm kiss that must’ve hurt both of them.  
  
Within seconds, Neil’s hands were curled into Andrew’s hair, keeping him close as he slid his mouth slowly over Andrew’s.  
  
Andrew didn’t allow himself to think about anything  
except the kiss  
and Neil’s small gasps between their lips.  
  
Maybe those were his favourite sound after all.  
  
Fuck, Andrew didn’t believe in favourite anything.  
He believed in barely passable,  
tolerable,  
or just doable.  
  
Yet here Neil was,  
making him think shit like _spells, favourite_ and  _dark magic_.  
  
Feeling angry,  
and something else,  
Andrew pushed Neil onto his back, following close behind. Not allowing the kiss to break because breaking it would mean thinking about this.   
  
Neil’s surprised gasp as he was pushed down shot straight to Andrew’s dick.  
  
And when Neil’s tongue clumsily sought his out,  
that, too, went to his dick.  
  
_fuck_.  
  
Kissing Neil burned through Andrew like the smoke of his hated cigarettes.   
It filled his chest with _heat  
_and made it hard to breathe,  
and most of all, it was nearly impossible to stop.  
  
At some point, though, Andrew found the strength to force himself away,  
and he fell on the bed beside Neil.  
  
Neil was breathing heavily.  
  
Andrew’s own breathing was ragged too.  
  
It was the only sound in the room for a minute.  
  
Until Neil eventually broke the silence. ‘I don’t like weekends.’  
  
Andrew turned his head to look at him.   
Neil was staring at the ceiling.   
There was still a flush on his cheeks, and his lips were slightly redder.  
  
‘Riko has too much time on the weekend,’ Neil said.  
  
‘Don’t go back there,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘I have to.’  
  
‘Why?’  
  
‘Because if I don’t, he’ll use someone else.’  
  
Andrew flicked his finger against Neil’s cheek. ‘Martyr.’  
  
Neil turned his head, and his blue eyes immediately found Andrew. They looked slightly annoyed. ‘I grew up with them. They’re the closest thing to family I have.’  
  
‘Family doesn’t stand by.’  
  
‘You don’t know how Riko gets,’ Neil said, irritated.  
  
‘But they do. Tell me. How often have they intervened?’  
  
Neil pushed himself upright. ‘That’s not a reason to let them get hurt.’  
  
Andrew stared Neil’s profile.   
His eyes slipped down Neil’s arms,  
to the bruises peeking out from under his hoodie.  
  
‘They won’t do the same for you.’  
  
‘They’re scared. And they’re right to be.’ Neil turned around to look at Andrew, and his expression was once again angry. ‘You should be too.’  
  
Andrew stared blankly at Neil.  
Stared at him until the years of a fucked up childhood slowly melted away from Neil’s eyes.  
Then, Andrew held out his hand.  
  
‘Your arm.’  
  
Neil didn’t even hesitate,  
so Andrew didn’t hesitate when he pushed up Neil’s sleeve, baring the yellow and green bruises for the walls of his bedroom to see.  
  
‘These will be red and blue again on Monday,’ Andrew said. ‘Because no one will stop Riko.’  
  
Neil stared at his own arm, but he didn’t say anything.  
So Andrew tightened his grip,  
his own fingers digging into the old bruises.  
  
Neil hissed,  
and looked up in annoyance.  
  
‘This is not living,’ Andrew said boredly.  
  
Neil’s mouth turned into a thin line.   
But he wasn’t telling Andrew to fuck off.  
  
Andrew knew it was hard to erase years of abuse,  
and to unlearn the things you told yourself in order to get through it.  
  
He knew it was impossible to suddenly leave a thought pattern behind.  
But patterns could be broken.  
And some,  
needed to be.  
  
So he made Neil do it himself.  
  
‘Tell me your favourite quote,’ Andrew demanded.  
  
Neil’s jaw clenched in anger.   
But he said the words.  
  
‘To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist.’ He paused, and his glare was like a wild animal. Feral. ‘That’s all.’  
  
_Snap_.  
  
🌘  
  
Saturday evening was spent on the couch.   
Erik and Nicky were playing zombies on the PlayStation. Aaron was watching and occasionally shouting along when he wasn’t glued to his phone like the answers of the universe were on it.   
  
Andrew watched Erik try to keep playing and losing the fight because he was laughing so hard at Nicky’s constipated, focused face.  
  
A new beginning, huh.  
There was nothing new about this situation.   
Yet something felt different anyway.  
  
Andrew wondered what it was.  
  
His mind instantly conjured up a flash of orange and bright blue eyes.  
Small gasps and two hands gripping his hair tightly.  
  
No.   
No, it couldn’t be that.  
  
Aaron kicked Andrew’s leg. ‘You look just like Nicky.’  
  
Andrew didn’t bother responding.  
  
‘Who are you texting, Aaron?’ Erik asked casually.  
  
Immediately, Aaron glared at the back of Erik’s head. ‘What the fuck. You’re not my dad, why would you want to know?’  
  
Stupid.   
Of course Nicky would pick up on Aaron’s awkward and obvious answer.  
  
‘ _Whooooooo_ are you texting, dearest cousin?’  
  
‘Fuck off,’ Aaron mumbled, glaring at them both. ‘You should watch what you’re doing, you’re about to die.’  
  
Little did any of them know  
how true Aaron’s warning rang.  
  
🌘

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; 'It's nothing,' he said. 'I'm fine.'
> 
> MMm I wonder who' ll say that... 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope it was fun to read :D And let me know what you thought if you want <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> I'm growing strawberries and raspberries on my small balcony, and today I saw they had grown and I was so stupidly excited.  
> Why is seeing something grow so wonderful?? Why does it feel like these plants are my babies?? What are humans???
> 
> ANYWAY. Questions aside, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

On Sunday, Andrew was helping in the garden when he saw a flash of orange in the corner of his eye.  
  
Neither Nicky nor Erik noticed, the first pulling weeds from the ground and the second raking dead leaves into a pile.  
  
But Andrew saw.  
  
Two white eyes were staring at him from the shadows created by the trees surrounding their back garden.  
It seemed to be just watching him.  
  
Andrew slowly moved to his feet, and when the fox didn’t react, he started crossing the distance between them.  
  
When he was about five steps away from the fox,  
Andrew slowly crouched down.   
  
The fox was still watching him,  
its ears on alert,  
but it didn’t run when Andrew carefully held out his hand.  
  
In fact, it even took a small step closer.  
  
‘Andrew?’ Nicky suddenly asked loudly. ‘What are you doing? Is that—’  
  
The fox startled  
and ran away,  
disappearing into the shadows.  
  
‘Was that a fox?’ Nicky asked.  
  
Andrew straightened,  
staring at the shadows where the flash of orange had disappeared.  
Swallowed up by the black.  
By the inkstain.  
  
Andrew’s hands balled into fists.  
  
He wouldn’t let Neil get absorbed into Riko’s darkness.  
He wouldn’t.  
  
‘Andrew?’ Erik asked.  
  
With difficulty, Andrew tore his gaze away from the darkness  
and turned to give Nicky and Erik a half-shrug.  
  
Their worried faces relaxed when they saw he was fine. Erik returned to his task of raking leaves, the sound of the metal scraping over the ground joining the quiet birdsong outside.  
  
Andrew shot a look over his shoulder,  
but there was no flash of orange.  
No fox.  
  
_What are you?  
_  
🌘  
  
On Monday, Andrew dreaded looking at Neil.  
More so than usual.  
  
Normally he hated the accompanying out-of-breath feeling,  
the pounding of his heart,  
the feeling of hands pushing at his shoulders, pushing him _closer_ to Neil fucking Josten.  
  
And even though Andrew knew what he would see,  
it still made his blood boil  
and his stomach twist uncomfortably,  
when he saw Neil trying his best to keep his long sleeves down.  
  
Andrew’s tray hit the cafeteria table with an angry _clash  
_as he sat opposite Neil during lunch.  
  
‘You can try to cover them up,’ he said, ‘but nothing hides your face.’  
  
Neil’s hand shot up to the clean cuts on his left cheek but then he changed his mind and put his hand down again. It made his sleeve ride up a little, and the bruises around Neil’s wrist made Andrew so, so angry.  
  
Neil caught him staring.  
He quickly pulled his sleeve down again.  
  
‘It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘I’m fine.’  
  
When Andrew looked up to deadpan those fucking stupid words,  
he noticed Riko was heading their way, Kevin and another guy in tow. So Andrew forced himself to pick up his donut and started eating it, to fake normalcy.  
To fake that everything was fucking _fine_.  
  
Riko was wearing a leather jacket.  
He looked like a fucking backstreet boy.  
  
Except he didn’t talk like one.  
  
‘Hello Andrew,’ Riko said.  
  
Andrew refused to do small talk.  
  
Riko clicked his tongue. ‘I told you to stop messing with me, and yet you don’t even say hello.’

‘I didn’t mess with you,’ Andrew said, before taking an obnoxiously big bite of his donut.  
  
It was nearly impossible to chew,  
but it was worth it for the disdainful disgust on Riko’s face before he continued talking like he was actually important, ‘I told you I could take care of Neil. And yet you invited him to your house.’  
  
From the corner of his eye, Andrew could see Neil freeze up.  
Which meant Neil hadn’t told Riko.  
  
Andrew directed his attention to Kevin. ‘You’re not making me like you, Kevin. Snitching...’ Andrew shook his head. ‘For shame.’  
  
Indignation flashed bright hot over Kevin’s face,  
and Kevin opened his mouth to talk,  
but then Riko was suddenly all in Andrew’s space and Andrew found it impossible to move.  
  
_Why the fuck couldn’t he move?  
_  
‘ _I’m_ talking to you,’ Riko hissed, ugly and low. ‘Don't. Avert your eyes.’  
  
And Andrew couldn’t.  
Not even if he wanted to.  
  
He stared unblinkingly at Riko,  
even though he was screaming inside his head to fucking _move_.  
  
A smile dripped onto Riko’s face. ‘Don’t try to fight it.’  
  
And Andrew didn’t.  
Because he couldn’t.  
  
It was then that the panic seeped in.  
Because if he couldn’t do anything,  
how could he protect those he’d promised to keep safe?  
  
How could he fucking rip Riko’s smile off his face?  
  
Riko shook his head. ‘So violent. I can see it in your eyes. One of these days, you’re going to hurt someone you care about.’ He leaned back. ‘I’m only going to warn you one more time, Andrew. Stay away from what’s mine. Or I will take what is yours.’  
  
Andrew found he could speak.  
But he didn’t.  
  
Instead, he used his limbs to force himself to yawn.  
  
A vein in Riko’s forehead twitched, before he swiftly turned around.  
Without another word.  
If only Kevin would’ve done the same.  
  
‘We keep warning you,’ he hissed. ‘When are you gonna listen?’  
  
‘When you start defending your own,’ Andrew said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Kevin flinched.  
  
_Gross_.  
  
Andrew wiggled his fingers. ‘Run along now. Your master is waiting.’  
  
When Kevin was gone, taking with him that awful expression, that tightness in his face that matched his fear,  
Neil moved to his feet.  
  
‘I should go,’ he mumbled.  
  
‘Sure,’ Andrew said. ‘Run again.’  
  
‘Are you fucking stupid?’ Neil asked. ‘You heard what Riko said. If I stay, I will only put you in danger.’  
  
Andrew met Neil’s eyes. There were too many emotions swirling amidst the blue to get a clear read on Neil’s emotions.  
  
‘What do you want?’ Andrew asked. ‘No, better yet. What’s living to you? Is it leaving? Or is it staying?’ He tapped his temple. ‘Think about it, Josten.’  
  
Neil held his gaze for another second,  
before it dropped to the boring grey linoleum.  
  
‘I don’t want you to die,’ he said quietly.  
  
‘Not what I asked,’ Andrew replied boredly.  
  
🌙  
  
‘Oh god,’ Nicky murmured, ‘please give me strength.’  
  
His hands were gripping the steering wheel too tightly,  
his knuckles nearly white.  
  
In front of them, the empty church appeared between the bare, empty branches.  
Like last time, there was not a raven in sight.  
Unlike last time, the wind wasn’t blowing so heavily it was nearly impossible to stay on the ground.  
  
Andrew helped Nicky load snacks and drinks from the backseat of the car, and followed him inside the church.  
  
Nature was still growing and thriving in the empty space,  
and the moon shining through the huge stained glass windows created soft beams of red and green.  
  
The office space looked so different from the last time Andrew had been here. There was a small carpet, a few colourful chairs, and some posters on the wall. There were even a few bluetooth speakers.  
  
‘I figured it might help with the awkwardness if it wasn’t totally quiet, you know?’ Nicky said, when he noticed Andrew inspecting the speakers.  
  
‘Smart,’ Andrew said.  
  
Nicky opened his bag and pulled out a few posters. ‘Could you hang these up outside? On the front door or something? I want people to know it’s here. Meanwhile, I’m going to arrange the cakes and cookies and start freaking out by myself.’  
  
Andrew grabbed the posters and walked outside. He’d just finished putting up two on the big double doors, when he heard a car driving this way.  
  
Before he could spook a closeted teenager, Andrew quickly slipped back inside the church and to the office, where Nicky was indeed freaking out.  
  
‘Oh no, I’m going to suck at this. I’m going to ruin these kids’ lives.’  
  
‘Nicky.’ Andrew stepped into Nicky’s space. ‘These kids’ lives are already ruined. They’re gay or bi or ace, or whatever, and they live in a small town. You can’t fuck them up any worse.’  
  
Nicky stared at him with wide eyes. ‘Oh,’ he whispered. ‘It breaks my heart to hear that.’  
  
‘That’s why you’re here. To unbreak theirs.’  
  
Nicky nodded.  
He took a deep breath.  
And another.  
  
‘Let’s do this.’  
  
🌙  
  
Slowly, people trickled into the office space.  
  
Kids with anxious and scared faces,  
kids with dark, anonymous clothes,  
kids without words.  
  
But Nicky had enough words and courage and colour for all of them.  
  
He gestured to the colourful chairs, the cakes and cookies. He offered them coffee or tea or cola, he put on a silly pop song that made them smile hesitatingly.  
  
Andrew couldn’t blame them.  
  
Coming here  
was coming out.  
  
It was bravery.  
  
Amidst the careful and shy colours of the rainbow,  
a sudden flash of orange in the corner of his eye made Andrew freeze, his grip on his coffee cup tightening.  
  
He turned around,  
slowly,  
and met Neil Josten’s gaze from across the small room.  
  
Andrew was speechless.  
  
He hadn’t expected Neil to come here,  
not after what had happened at school.  
  
He hadn’t expected it,  
and judging by the smug smile on Neil’s face when he stopped in front of Andrew,  
he saw,  
and he liked it.  
  
‘Guess I could stay for once,’ Neil said, still grinning awfully smugly.  
  
Andrew had no words.  
He didn’t know what to say to someone who chose you, even though it cost them their skin.  
  
So Nicky saved him.  
Again.  
  
‘Coffee or tea, Neil?’  
  
No comment about how Neil was here.  
No comment about how Neil and Andrew were staring at each other,  
how the air between them was almost  
_alive_.  
  
‘Coffee,’ Neil said, not taking his eyes off Andrew.  
  
‘A man after my heart,’ Nicky joked. ‘Andrew, could you get Neil some coffee?’  
  
Even though his mind was still processing, Andrew’s body responded to the words,  
reaching towards the coffee, grabbing an empty cup, and then pouring one into the other.  
  
As Andrew pushed the cup into Neil’s hands,  
their fingers brushing, because of fucking course they did,  
Nicky asked everyone to sit down and be quiet.  
  
Nicky cleared his throat. ‘Hi everyone. Uh, there’s a lot I want to say, but first. I’m a shit baker, so how are the cookies?’  
  
A few smiles and compliments.  
  
‘Great,’ Nicky said, faking a great sigh of relief. ‘Can I give you all a compliment too? Not for trying my horrible baking, but for coming here in the first place. I can’t imagine what you had to do in order to get here.’  
  
Andrew sneaked a glance at Neil,  
but Neil’s face was blank.  
  
‘That was so, _so_ brave of you. And I’m so glad you did, truly. Because keeping this to yourself, however necessary, can be just as harmful as eating horrible cookies. It can make you feel ill. Right here,’ Nicky put his hands on his stomach. ‘And here.’ He tapped his finger against his head. ‘But most of all, it can make you feel _so_ horribly alone.’  
  
At this, Neil’s hands clenched and unclenched. Like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.  
Andrew wanted to reach out and grab them.  
Because it was annoying, obviously.  
  
‘That’s why I started this group. Because I don’t want you to feel alone. Because I don’t want you to suffer from something that is so wonderful. Because it really is. Loving someone is wonderful, and it actually, really, one hundred percent, doesn’t matter _who_ that someone is. If they’re the same gender, non-binary, the opposite gender, if they’re two people or three. If you love someone, that should be _celebrated_. Not hidden.’  
  
Nicky looked around the group. ‘I know being here is still a little bit like hiding. But it’s a step. A step to, I hope, one day being able to find a space where you can be totally yourself. Where you can be surrounded by people who love you for who you are. So let’s see this as practice, okay? This is your safe space, and I promise you, nothing you say here will be held against you.’  
  
There was a painful,  
emotional  
quiet  
in the room.  
  
Andrew saw a few kids wipe away tears.  
  
‘If you’re comfortable with it,’ Nicky continued, ‘I would like you to say who you are, or what you would like us to call you, because I haven’t forgotten about the T in LGBT, and what made you come here. That would be such a great start. Of course, you don’t have to. You can just listen if you want.’    
  
But most of the kids wanted to tell their stories. Or a small part of it anyway. A few were just curious about other sexualities, but hadn’t found people to share this curiosity with.  
A few had tried to talk about this with their parents, and had found that talking wasn’t an option.  
  
And then it was Neil’s turn.  
If he wanted it.  
  
‘I’m Neil,’ he said. ‘And I don’t really care about my sexuality. For the sake of this meeting, I googled it anyway, and I’m demisexual.’  
  
A girl’s hand shot up. When Neil nodded at her, she asked, ‘Could you maybe, explain? What that is like for you?’  
  
‘Sure. It means I found people attractive, but I never wanted to have sex with them. I felt it was dangerous to be vulnerable with someone I hardly even know. I don’t know if it’s like this for others, but that’s what it was like for me. I thought I just didn’t want to have sex with others. Not that it mattered, because there was too much going on to really care about that, but then…’ Neil fell silent. Andrew could almost see him realize he’d poured so much truth into a group of strangers.  
  
Nicky had done a good job if even Neil Josten had felt comforted by the safe space.  
  
‘You don’t have to tell us,’ Nicky said gently.  
  
Neil nodded.  
He was staring at his hands as they fiddled with his sleeves.  
A hint of blue,  
a splattering of red.  
  
And then Neil resolutely pushed up his sleeves,  
baring his bruised arms,  
and said, ‘But then I met someone. And I wouldn’t mind having sex with them. So demisexual it is.’  
  
Another kid raised a hand. ‘But… How can I know for sure if I’m ace then?’  
  
Neil shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Just like people don’t know if they’ve met _the one_ , or whatever.’  
  
‘That’s a good example,’ Nicky said. ‘I think labels are just that. Labels. You can stick one on if that makes you feel comfortable, but if you no longer identify with it, by all means. Rip it off! Stick on multiple! Have fun with discovering who you are. And don’t let anyone tell you you’re wearing the wrong label. Or that you can’t switch them. ‘Cause that’s bullshit.’  
  
Nicky blushed. ‘Oops. Sorry for swearing.’  
  
Everyone laughed.  
  
🌙  
  
After everyone sneaked out again, Nicky and Andrew were the only ones left.  
  
Now the space truly was a safe space.  
  
‘Oh my god, that went so well, didn’t it? Did you see the relief and excitement on their faces?’ Nicky babbled enthusiastically as he put away the used cups. ‘For a while they didn’t look so sad. God, they looked like they _hoped_ . And they actually liked my cookies, can you—’  
  
‘I’m gay,’ Andrew said, not looking up from where he was stacking chairs in a corner.  
  
Nicky fell silent.  
  
Andrew grabbed another brightly coloured chair, and stacked it on top of a green one.  
  
‘Andrew,’ Nicky said softly.  
  
But it was suddenly so fucking hard to face Nicky,  
so Andrew grabbed a red chair and hauled it over to the rest,  
his hands sweatier than he wanted them to be.  
  
This shouldn’t have been hard,  
why the fuck was he reacting like this?  
  
‘Andrew,’ Nicky repeated. ‘Could you please stop with the chairs?’  
  
Heart racing, _what the fuck_ , Andrew forced himself to turn around.  
  
Nicky was staring at him with a strangled smile on his face,  
like he was mere seconds away from bursting into tears,  
so Andrew lifted a finger and said, ‘Don’t.’  
  
‘Oh, Andrew, I knew already,’ Nicky said, voice wobbly. ‘But I’m so happy—so happy you decided to tell me yourself.’  
  
Andrew didn’t say anything.  
‘Cause his throat felt fucking closed off.  
  
Nicky took a step closer. ‘Can I hug you? Just this once?’  
  
‘It’s not a big deal,’ Andrew said. ‘Stop making it one.’  
  
‘Is that a no?’ Nicky asked.  
  
And fuck him for being so consensual.  
  
‘Fine,’ Andrew said. ‘Yes.’  
  
Nicky’s arms wrapped around Andrew,  
enveloping him in warmth and love and whatever fucking happy emotion Nicky was emitting at the moment.  
  
And because he couldn’t see them,  
Andrew forgave the tears Nicky shed.  
  
‘I love you,’ Nicky said.  
  
‘This is why I haven’t told you,’ Andrew said.  
  
🌙

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; "He wanted, wanted, wanted."
> 
> Ufh. I made myself cry writing that scene with Nicky and the group ;u;
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed it! And thank you so much for reading ♡♡


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people!
> 
> I hope you're having a relaxed Sunday,  
> and that you enjoy this chapter :)
> 
> TW: light smut! I suggest you stop reading when Neil says "Yes." :)

The next day,  
there was a strange vibe in the air.  
  
Andrew had noticed it when he sleepwalked downstairs and inhaled his waffles.  
It could either be the small smile on Nicky’s face that spoke volumes,  
or Aaron’s uncharacteristic quiet during breakfast  
  
‘You shouldn’t skip breakfast,’ Nicky admonished him, but he was smiling, so the effect was completely lost.  
  
Andrew had noticed the strange vibe when he entered the school. He wasn’t even looking for people who’d been at the meeting last night,  
and yet he saw them,  
and they saw him,  
and something quiet passed between them.  
  
It wasn’t unwelcome,  
but it also wasn’t welcome.  
  
Andrew didn’t want new friends.  
  
But no, no, those were all slightly different situations.  
No, the strange vibe was definitely the note slipped into Andrew’s locker  
that said  
_Skip school with me_.  
_  
_ So when the bell rang, and every student turned towards the classrooms,  
Andrew turned the other way.  
  
Sitting outside, on the benches underneath the orange trees,  
was Neil Josten.  
  
He spotted Andrew immediately, so Andrew greeted him with his middle finger.  
_Being fucking summoned._ _  
_ Neil laughed, and moved to his feet, not even checking if Andrew was following.  
  
Though he was.  
  
They walked around the school building without talking,  
and Andrew didn’t need to ask when Neil started towards the bleachers.  
  
Because his perfect memory remembered their conversation.  
  
_‘Some people who skip go behind there,’_ Neil had said.  
  
_‘For sex,’_ Andrew had guessed.  
  
Except no fucking way.  
Andrew hooked his finger in Neil’s hoodie and pulled.  
  
‘The library,’ he said.  
  
Confusion and hurt crossed Neil’s face,  
so Andrew didn’t let him think too long, and marched towards the library.  
  
Behind the counter, pastel coloured hair now pink and purple, Renee was eating an orange and reading a book.  
  
‘Out,’ Andrew said, as he walked past her.  
  
‘Excuse me?’ Renee asked, but then the door opened again, and she probably saw Neil because she said, ‘Oh.’  
  
As always, the couch in the corner was unoccupied.  
Andrew sank down on it.  
  
When he looked up, Neil just rounded the corner.  
  
‘Did you just dismiss Renee?’ he asked.  
  
‘Did you just send me a note?’ Andrew asked mockingly.  
  
‘I don’t own a pho—’  
  
Andrew grabbed Neil’s shirt and pulled him down on the couch. ‘Yes or no, Neil?’  
  
Neil’s breath hitched, and his eyes were burning through Andrew.  
  
‘I thought you didn’t. Didn’t want to.’  
  
‘Yes or no?’  
  
Neil licked his lips. ‘Yes.’  
  
Again, both of them moved at the same time.  
  
Andrew gripped the back of Neil’s neck, and Neil immediately carded both hands through Andrew’s hair.  
They held each other in a tight grip, their eyes burning into each other,  
and it was impossible to move any other way than _closer_.  
  
And then their lips met.  
  
Neil’s lips slid perfectly over Andrew’s mouth, a slow slide that made Andrew’s head spin,  
before their kiss deepened.  
  
And then Neil slipped his tongue inside Andrew’s mouth.    
  
Biting back a groan, Andrew pushed Neil down, down on the couch,  
catching himself with his free hand.  
  
He could feel all of Neil pressed against all of him,  
but it wasn’t bad.  
  
It wasn’t bad at all,  
not with Neil making those soft little gasps again.  
  
It was fucking maddening.  
  
Andrew pulled away to clear his head, or at least _try_ to,  
but that was an even worse idea than Neil Josten.  
Because as soon as Andrew gave him an inch, Neil leaned in and took the whole mile, placing open mouthed kisses along his neck.  
  
The groan that escaped Andrew was louder than he’d wanted it to be.  
  
‘Oh,’ Neil said softly. Surprised.  
  
And then,  
slowly,  
carefully,  
he kissed the hollow of Andrew’s throat.  
  
Andrew tightened his grip on the back of Neil’s neck  
and kept him close,  
his own breath hitching.  
  
‘Fuck you,’ he ground out.  
  
‘Liar,’ Neil mumbled against Andrew’s throat. ‘I think you like it.’  
  
Neil’s tongue slipped out,  
and dragged hotly against Andrew’s skin.  
  
It was hard to think,  
arousal burning through Andrew.  
  
‘I don’t like you,’ Andrew said through gritted teeth.  
  
Neil paused,  
and leaned back.  
Insecurity shaped his features into something awful.  
  
‘Should I stop?’  
  
‘No,’ Andrew said, and pushed Neil back down. He leaned in close to his ear. ‘I asked you to stay.’  
  
Neil shivered. ‘I want to touch you,’ he breathed. ‘Can I?’  
  
Andrew leaned back slightly. ‘Not here.’  
  
The library was deserted,  
but it was in no way a safe space for Andrew to get naked.  
  
‘Oh,’ Neil said, and started to get up, just like that, but Andrew put a hand against Neil’s chest and repeated his words back at him.  
  
‘I want to touch you. Can I?’  
  
It was almost funny to see the black take over the blue in Neil’s eyes.  
  
Except it wasn’t funny,  
because Neil licked his lips again, then said breathlessly, ‘Yes.’  
  
Andrew’s own heart skyrocketed in his chest as he slipped his fingers underneath Neil’s shirt, and dragged his hands over the planes over his stomach.  
  
Neil’s skin was hot,  
and so was his gasp,  
and the little twitch of his hips.  
  
Andrew pushed Neil’s shirt up  
and pressed an openmouthed kiss on Neil’s chest.  
  
He wanted to rake his nails over Neil’s stomach,  
wanted to see him shiver,  
wanted to see _his_ marks on Neil’s skin,  
however wrong it was to want that.  
  
Instead, Andrew pressed soft kisses into Neil’s skin,  
trailed them over Neil’s pounding heart  
all the way down  
to his jeans.  
  
With practiced ease, he unbuttoned them.  
  
Neil’s breath hitched  
when Andrew pulled down his pants.  
  
‘Still okay?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Neil opened his legs as an answer.  
  
_Fuck, okay._  
  
Clad in black boxers,  
flushed cheeks  
and bruises  
Neil looked like a fever dream Andrew wished he’d had.  
  
Andrew trailed his finger over Neil’s hard dick,  
and watched with hungry eyes when it twitched.  
  
‘Gonna need verbal consent, Neil,’ Andrew said in a low voice.  
  
‘I don’t have a quote for this situation,’ Neil said a little breathlessly.  
  
No, not said.  
Joked.  
  
_For fuck’s sake._  
  
Andrew pinched Neil’s inner thigh,  
and the stuttered moan that escaped Neil’s lips was unexpected.  
Arousal shot through Andrew’s body.  
He shifted his hips against the couch but it did fuck all to relieve the _need_.  
The _wanting_.  
  
‘Yes,’ Neil said. ‘More of that.’  
  
Done wasting time, Andrew hooked his fingers in Neil’s boxers and pulled them down.  
  
He stared at the expanse of skin.  
Ran his hands over Neil’s inner thighs, just to feel them tremble.  
And then Andrew bent down,  
put his mouth on Neil,  
and swallowed down his dick.  
  
A tortured sound escaped Neil’s throat.  
  
Andrew ran his hands over Neil’s thighs  
as he started bobbing his head up and down.  
  
When the trembling turned into shaking,  
Andrew slowed his pace  
and looked up.  
  
Neil’s shirt was still half pushed up.  
  
Andrew could see Neil’s chest rise and fall rapidly,  
panting and gasping for air  
with every slide of Andrew’s mouth.  
  
The sight was almost better than Neil’s dick in his mouth, Andrew thought, his own mind growing hazy from arousal.  
  
Neil looked so good like this.  
  
Andrew wanted to press his body against Neil’s,  
wanted to feel Neil’s mouth on his skin,  
wanted bruises in the shape of Neil’s hands gripping him.  
  
He wanted, wanted, wanted  
  
Andrew _ached  
_and so he sunk down on Neil’s dick until it reached the back of his throat.  
  
Tears sprang to his eyes when Neil’s hips shifted upward,  
and Andrew’s throat burned,  
but it was a good burn.  
  
Andrew swallowed,  
and relished in the pain.  
  
And when Neil came with a groan,  
Andrew let himself be pulled up, up, up, _Andrew_ _now_ ,  
let himself be kissed.  
  
Neil kissed his neck,  
sucked on the skin until Andrew was burning from the inside.  
  
Closing his eyes,  
Andrew pressed his nails into the palm of his hands until they bled.  
But he held on.  
  
🌙  
  
At dinner, Andrew wasn’t fooling anyone.  
  
‘I love those spots on your neck, Andrew,’ Nicky commented casually. ‘The red really brings out the anger in your eyes.’  
  
Andrew took another bite of his pizza.  
Beside him, Aaron did a double take. ‘Wait. Are those fucking hickeys?’  
  
Yes.  
Andrew had seen the marks in the school bathroom.  
  
‘Don’t act like you’re all innocent,’ Nicky said, pointing his slice of pizza at Aaron. ‘You’ve been texting non-stop.’  
  
Just as Nicky said the words,  
Aaron’s phone buzzed.  
  
Andrew reached for it, but Aaron quickly snatched his phone away.  
  
‘Stop acting like you’re my parents,’ Aaron said, stuffing his phone is his pocket.  
  
‘We were only joking, Aaron,’ Erik said gently.  
  
‘I’m _just_ texting. If you want to harass someone, go pick on Andrew. He’s the one having sex.’  
  
Andrew carefully chewed his food,  
swallowed,  
then put down his half-eaten slice and turned to Aaron.  
  
After a few seconds, Aaron started fidgeting.  
  
‘What,’ he snapped.  
  
‘Why do you think that?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Aaron’s eyes flickered away. ‘You’re always going to the library with Neil, I figured you were having sex there or something.’  
  
‘Going to the library?’ Nicky repeated. ‘During lunch break?’  
  
Andrew stared at Aaron,  
daring him to fucking rat him out.  
But Aaron took a big bite of his pizza and chewed angrily.  
  
Andrew turned back to Nicky and Erik, and shrugged.  
  
‘Andrew…’ Nicky’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not skipping class, are you?’  
  
Andrew could see where Aaron was coming from.  
The concerned parent act would be very annoying  
if it was exactly that.  
But it wasn’t.  
  
It wasn’t an act,  
and Nicky wasn’t pretending to be their parent.  
  
When Andrew didn’t say anything, Nicky sighed, then nearly stabbed Andrew with his slice of pizza. ‘But when your grades drop, you’ll stop skipping!’  
  
‘If my grades are all above a B at the end of the year,’ Andrew said, ‘I can get a car.’  
  
Nicky narrowed his eyes. ‘Deal.’  
  
Beside Andrew,  
hidden underneath the table,  
Aaron was texting furiously on his phone.  
  
🌙  
  
‘You never told me exactly what you found,’ Neil said between kisses.  
  
Andrew pulled back, the couch creaking a little as he did so. ‘Found?’  
  
‘At town hall.’  
  
Andrew brushed a strand of hair out of Neil’s face,  
trying to decide if this was an exceptionally stupid idea or not.  
  
The fire in Neil’s eyes made it hard to say no.  
  
‘Ever since the Moriyamas started living here, back in 1960, teenagers have been dying,’ Andrew answered. ‘A few every year.’  
  
‘I don’t know everything,’ Neil said, ‘but I’ve been around long enough to know that’s true. When I was younger, I didn’t know who or what was causing the deaths. I only knew that the elders kept a close eye on me. I hated it. Then when I was older, around the time that Riko missed an entire month of school, they started…’ Neil fell silent for a while. ‘They started using me. For their rituals.’  
  
‘What rituals?’  
  
‘I don’t know, they never told me. I only know that they need me because my energy source is strong and replenishes quickly.’  
  
Andrew had a hard time forcing the words past his lips.  
But he did,  
because the time of not believing was behind him now, wasn’t it?  
  
He couldn’t not believe,  
not when he’d seen the knife stab Neil instead,  
when he’d seen Renee heal that wound,  
and when he couldn’t move an inch because Riko had told him not to.  
  
It all sounded not-real.  
  
But it was.  
  
‘Energy source?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Outside, rain and wind pressed hard against the windows,  
a storm brewing between the grey clouds.  
  
‘The source you use for magic,’ Neil said hesitatingly.  
  
Andrew’s next question was obvious.  
  
‘Can you?’  
  
Neil’s eyes dropped to his hands.  
Andrew didn’t want to notice how long Neil’s fucking eyelashes were.  
  
‘I’m not allowed to use magic. It depletes my source.’  
  
_But_ , Andrew thought.  
  
‘But,’ Neil said. ‘I have enough for small spells. Enough that they won’t notice.’  
  
There was smugness in his voice,  
and defiance,  
and it made Andrew want to kiss him.  
  
He didn’t.  
Instead he asked, ‘Do you know when the next ritual is?’  
  
‘No, Riko never tells me. Why?’

‘The town won’t turn a blind eye if they have proof of whatever Riko’s up to.’  
  
‘Maybe,’ Neil said carefully. ‘But you can’t follow Riko to a ritual. It’s too dangerous.’  
  
‘Can you tell me when Riko’s going?’  
  
‘Andrew,’ Neil said. ‘It’s too dangerous. And it would be last minute too.’  
  
‘Can you, or can’t you?’  
  
‘I can.’  
  
Andrew nodded.  
He reached out and gripped Neil’s arm, his fingers splayed over the yellowing bruises.  
Then he leaned down  
and pressed a kiss between each of his fingers.  
  
Threatening his family, abusing Neil, murdering teenagers.  
It was time someone stopped Riko Moriyama.  
  
🌙  
  
Neil didn’t own a phone.  
  
It was a fact Andrew hadn’t forgotten,  
yet when he saw the flash of orange out of the corner of his eye and wandered over to his window,  
he hadn’t quite expected to see the fox with the white eyes  
sitting outside his house.  
  
Still.  
Message received.  
  
Andrew quickly put on his shoes and coat, yanked a black beanie over his head, and ran out the door.  
  
🌙  
  
The weather was shit.  
  
Never mind that the moon was glowing beautifully in the sky.  
It was raining, no, _pouring_ , and the wind was howling, whipping into Andrew’s face and making it hard to see a fucking thing.  
  
All Andrew could see in the darkness was the soft orange of the fox,  
as it was leading him deeper into the woods.  
  
Branches scratched Andrew’s face and hands,  
and the dead leaves on the ground were treacherously slippery from the rain.  
  
After what seemed like too fucking long of stamping through the woods,  
the fox started slowing down,  
until it eventually stopped.  
  
It turned its head, and its white eyes stared at Andrew.  
  
‘You’re one of his spells, aren’t you?’ Andrew asked, having to speak up to hear himself over the harsh wind.  
  
The fox merely stared at him for a second or two before running away.  
  
‘Fine,’ Andrew said, because the weather was shitty enough to make him petty. He whipped out his phone and, using the flashlight, continued walking.  
  
Thunder rumbled overhead,  
making it both easier to sneak  
and both harder to listen for voices.  
  
But Andrew heard them all right.  
  
It was some sort of chanting, like this was a cult and not a coven—or whatever witches were called.  
  
It felt more appropriate to call them a murder of Moriyamas, really.  
  
Andrew followed the many voices chanting in the night,  
pausing every few feet or so to determine their location.  
  
When the voices got louder,  
when Andrew could start making out words—and they were latin, those pretentious fucks—he switched off his flashlight.  
  
Then,  
the cawing started.  
  
Amidst the loud sounds of a storm coming, it was barely noticeable.  
  
Just a background noise that belonged to forests and trees,  
until it gradually got louder and louder,  
until Andrew paused  
and looked  
up.  
  
Thunder broke the sky  
and illuminated the trees,  
making Andrew see the dozens of ravens perched above him,  
staring down at him.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
The ravens’ usually shiny black eyes were now a pure white.  
Like the fox.  
  
When Andrew made eye contact,  
the cawing stopped.  
  
Every single raven  
paused  
to stare at Andrew.  
  
Andrew held his breath, not even moving an inch.  
  
But it was no use.  
One by one, the ravens opened their beaks and started _screeching_ , their voices loud and harsh and adding to the storm already outside.  
  
The chanting stopped.  
  
_Fuck it_ , Andrew thought. He started running towards where he thought the sounds were coming from.  
  
The last of the flames died out just as he shuffled down a hill,  
_how the fuck were there flames in this rain anyway_ ,  
and when Andrew reached the clearing with the campfire,  
it was completely deserted.  
  
There were just the half-burned logs  
and a few upturned stones.  
  
‘ _Fuck_ ,’ Andrew swore, rain pouring over his face.  
  
He kicked one of the stones in anger.  
  
Something shone underneath the stone he just kicked.  
  
It was barely visible,  
but because the moon was so bright,  
and because Andrew was getting used to looking at things from the corner of his eye,  
he spotted the shiny little hair pin.  
  
Andrew bent down and picked it up.  
  
It was an ordinary hair pin.  
  
Still, he pocketed it,  
then took a few pictures of the clearing.  
Just in case.  
  
🌙  
  
The kitchen lights were on when Andrew came home.  
  
Nicky was sitting on the counter with a cup of hot chocolate. He looked absolutely shocked to see Andrew dripping wet in the middle of the night.  
  
‘Andrew, what the fuck?’  
  
‘Why are you awake?’ Andrew asked.  
  
Nicky blinked. ‘Uh, sorry? Why are _you_ awake? And wet? Have you been _outside_?’  
  
‘Yes.’  
  
It took Nicky a few seconds to recover.  
He took a big gulp of his hot chocolate.  
  
‘I had trouble sleeping,’ Nicky said eventually. ‘I had this horrible nightmare, where I was trapped inside a basement without any light or food or drink, and without… Without _you guys_.’  
  
Thunder rumbled faintly in the distance.  
  
‘It’s just a dream,’ Andrew said. ‘If it bothers you, you should talk to Erik.’  
  
‘I don’t want to wake him up, he’s working so hard every day.’  
  
‘Nicky,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘Andrew,’ Nicky said.  
  
They stared at each other, until Nicky smiled. ‘Go take a fucking shower. You’re dripping on my hardwood floors.’  
  
‘No more sleeping pills,’ Andrew warned. ‘Wake up Erik instead.’  
  
Nicky held up his hand. ‘I promise.’  
  
🌙  
  
Andrew’s bedroom door burst open at 6 in the morning, when the sun was nowhere near the horizon.  
  
Andrew shot up to stab someone,  
but paused when he noticed Erik’s wide eyes.  
  
‘Have you seen Nicky?’ Erik asked in a voice that was supposed to resemble calm.  
  
But it barely did.  
  
‘He was in the kitchen when I got home,’ Andrew said, grabbing his phone to check the time. ‘That was 5 hours ago.’  
  
Erik raked his hands through his hair.  
Andrew could see they were shaking.  
  
‘Okay. Okay, maybe he went out for groceries.’  
  
‘Have you tried calling him?’ Andrew asked.  
  
‘Yeah. That’s the thing. He left his phone.’  
  
_Nicky would never leave his phone.  
  
_ The truth was in both their eyes,  
and neither had to say it out loud to know that something weird was going on.  
  
‘He’s too old,’ Erik said, voice tinged in panic, raking his hands through his hair again. ‘He’s too old.’  
  
_Too old to be murdered.  
  
_🌑

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time; ‘Riko’s room is upstairs,’ Neil whispered.
> 
> Um. Sorry?
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! And let me know what you thought of this chapter, if you want :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely people,
> 
> Sentimental rambling will be in the end note,  
> so for now,  
> enjoy the final chapter!
> 
> (i am so sorry that i never announce these)

Erik dropped Aaron and Andrew off at school.  
  
‘I’m sure he just got lost in Walmart or something,’ Aaron said, but his voice was shaky and weak.  
  
Outside, the wind howled.  
Dead leaves tumbled over the pavement.  
  
‘Let’s hope so,’ Erik said, voice tight like his grip on the steering wheel.  
  
‘Good luck,’ Andrew said, before throwing his door open.  
  
While Erik would drive around Black Creek, Georgia, to look for Nicky,  
Andrew would find Neil,  
and would once and for all  
deal with Riko Moriyama.  
  
🌑  
  
‘This is the stupidest idea,’ Neil said.  
  
‘You don’t have to come along,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil stared at the back of the Moriyama Orphanage,  
at the imposing, narrow black door with metal grates.  
  
‘No, I’ll come along.’  
  
‘Good,’ Andrew said. ‘Then let’s go.’  
  
According to Neil, no one was at the orphanage at 10 in the morning, which meant Andrew could search through the house until he found enough evidence to put Riko behind fucking bars.  
  
Neil opened the back door with his key, then led the way through the narrow, dark hallway.  
  
The wallpaper was black, with a fancy pattern that looked so fucking extra it made Andrew want to slice it apart.  
  
‘Riko’s room is upstairs,’ Neil whispered.  
  
‘Would’ve thought he slept in the basement,’ Andrew said.  
  
‘We’re not allowed into the basement. Not even Riko.’  
  
‘Who is?’  
  
‘The masters,’ Neil said, as they walked up the dark wooden stairs. ‘Ichiro has been spending a lot of time there. Now that he’s back.’  
  
‘Seems like we should look there.’  
  
‘It’s locked. I don’t know how to get in.’ Neil pointed at a black door to their left. ‘That’s Riko’s bedroom.’  
  
Andrew had a hunch the basement was more important than Riko’s bedroom, but while they were here it couldn’t hurt to take a look.  
  
As long as he found evidence.  
  
Neil opened the door and.  
Riko’s room was just a normal bedroom. A very _bare_ one, but nothing inside screamed _I murder teenagers_.  
  
There was a bed, a bedside table, and a desk.  
All the walls were black.  
It reminded Andrew of Nicky’s outburst and he gritted his teeth.

‘Any hiding places?’ he asked.  
  
Very carefully, he opened the bedside table drawer and searched through its contents.  
  
‘I don’t know,’ Neil said. ‘We’re not allowed inside Riko’s bedroom, so we don’t.’  
  
Even though Riko’s bedroom had been unlocked.  
Seemed like Riko really thought himself king of the murder castle, if he didn’t even bother locking his room.  
  
The bedside table turned out to be disappointing.  
It contained painkillers, a few pens, a paperback of the play _The Crucible_ , and some post-its.  
  
‘Andrew,’ Neil said quietly. ‘Look at this.’  
  
Standing near the desk, Neil held up a small leather notebook. Embossed in the front was the letter _R_.  
  
Andrew took it and immediately flipped through the pages. It seemed like some sort of diary.  
At the top of every page was a little circle, half-circle, or just a sliver—  
The moon cycle, Andrew realized.  
  
He had flipped through half of the diary when a page near the end caught his eye. There was no moon phase at the top, but there was a haunting title called  
_Greater Shield of Terror_.  
There was some sort of diagram drawn on the page, an intricate circle with swirls and symbols that gave Andrew the fucking creeps.  
  
Below that,  
a recipe.  
  
Except it didn’t sound like a recipe.  
  
_Ink stained paper,  
_ _raven feathers,_ _  
_ _raven bile,_ _  
_ _chicken egg close to hatching,_ _  
_ Etc.  
  
Andrew’s heart hammered in his chest as he read on.  
  
_Even if a hundred men are your enemies, this spell will shield you. If they attacked you or wanted to kill you, the shield will deflect their attacks._  
  
And then, written next to it in neat handwriting, the question: **_Deflect it to someone else?_ **  
  
It was the spell Riko had used, modified, to deflect Andrew’s knife to hurt Neil instead.  
  
Andrew’s stomach felt uneasy.  
  
Some part of him still refused to believe,  
still thought the page before him looked not-real.  
  
Except he’d _seen_ magic.  
Multiple times.  
  
Andrew grabbed his phone.  
His hands were shaking slightly.  
  
‘His spellbook,’ Neil said quietly. ‘I can’t believe he just left it here, without—’  
  
The front door’s lock  
clicked  
open.  
  
Ice travelled through Andrew’s veins.  
  
It was exactly what he’d thought.  
What Neil had said.  
It would be too stupid to leave this room unprotected.  
  
The front door swung open, sounds from outside drifting into the house and up the stairs, somehow even more haunting than the chanting in the woods.  
  
Beside Andrew, Neil visibly paled.  
It seemed like even his breathing stopped.  
  
Footsteps.  
The wooden floor creaked only slightly,  
but it was enough to figure out that someone was walking towards the stairs.  
  
Neil’s eyes flickered to Andrew.  
They had shown Andrew all kinds of emotions, from angry to insecure to too soft.  
And now,  
for the first time,  
they were _terrified_.  
  
‘Take the book,’ Neil breathed, eyes wide. ‘Go.’  
  
Hand going to his knives, Andrew shook his head.  
  
Neil shook his head frantically and whispered again, ‘ _Go_.’  
  
The first step gave a soft sigh as someone stepped on it.  
  
Neil gave Andrew a small push. ‘The spell,’ he breathed, the words rushing out. ‘It won’t work, your knives won’t work, you’ll only hurt me, you need to _go_ .’  
  
Another step creaked,  
and Riko started humming an eerie tune.  
  
He was taking his time.  
Because he knew there was no escaping him.  
Especially not in his own fucking house.  
  
And Andrew wasn’t stupid, so why the fuck was he still staring at Neil?  
Why was it so hard to turn around and go?  
  
_Because no one ever took the hit for Neil.  
  
_ ‘Andrew,’ Neil whispered frantically, ‘Please _go_.’  
  
The please shocked Andrew enough to take a small step back.  
He didn’t want Neil to be such a fucking martyr but—  
  
_Boom boom boom boom_.  
  
Footsteps suddenly sprinted up the stairs, going faster and faster and faster and time was  
up.  
  
Neil was right.  
  
Andrew would only hurt Neil.  
  
It was what he told himself as he opened the bathroom door and disappeared. The window in the bathroom was just big enough for him to squeeze through, but the tree next to the window was going to be challenging.  
  
_Better challenging than dead.  
  
_ Andrew stuffed the notebook in his hoodie, climbed through the window, and put his feet against the wall.  
  
The world was spinning, spinning, spinning,  
but if he wouldn’t look down,  
he could make it.  
  
The door to Riko’s bedroom burst open.  
  
Riko laughed. ‘Oh, Neil,’ he said. ‘This was a mistake.’  
  
Andrew’s heart clenched  
and he jumped.  
  
🌑  
  
His thoughts were a mess.  
His feelings too.  
  
It seemed like the threads inside him, the ones that had been keeping him together, were snapping  
one  
by  
one.  
  
His hands were shaking.  
And. they. wouldn’t. stop.  
  
His phone was ringing in his pocket and in a daze, Andrew unlocked his screen and stared at the caller ID.  
  
_Erik_.  
  
Andrew’s stomach twisted uncomfortably.  
  
When the call ended, after a few seconds, after a minute, a notification said,  
(10) _Missed calls: Erik.  
  
_ Fuck.  
  
Everything was fucked up.  
Even more so than usual.  
  
Why the fuck had he agreed to a new beginning?  
  
Andrew vaguely realized he was walking,  
but when he saw the rusted letters above the brown double doors  
he realized he might not have completely lost it.  
  
The school library.  
Renee.  
  
🌑  
  
Renee’s eyes went wide when she saw Andrew,  and she was in his face in an instant, the smell of lavender and oranges suddenly wafting in Andrew’s face.  
  
‘Andrew… ? Andrew, are you okay? What happened?’  
  
When he didn’t respond,  
Renee tried to usher him to the couch in the back.  
It startled Andrew out of his daze.  
  
The couch was his and Neil’s spot.  
And he had left Neil behind.  
  
Andrew remembered telling Neil he shouldn’t stand up for people who wouldn’t do the same for him  
and yet he had walked away  
and it was so hard to forget the sheer terror in Neil’s eyes  
because he knew what Riko would do with him.  
  
‘I need to kill Riko,’ Andrew said.  
  
Renee paused. ‘I don’t think…’  
  
The library doors burst open, hasty footsteps coming their way, and then Aaron rounded the corner. ‘Why the fuck aren’t you answering your phone?’ He asked Andrew. ‘Erik is going crazy. _I’m_ going crazy. Nicky is fucking missing, Andrew. What if he’s…’  
  
‘Dead,’ Andrew said detachedly.  
  
Aaron recoiled.  
With his free hand, he nervously pushed his hair out of his face; his other was still gripping his phone.  
  
‘Fuck,’ Aaron said. ‘Fuck, this is so messed up. I didn’t want to move here in the first place.’  
  
‘It’s not about you,’ Andrew said. He turned back to Renee. ‘Help me kill Riko.’  
  
‘ _What_?’ Aaron asked, voice shaking. ‘You’re going to…? No. No, Andrew, you can’t.’ He was in Andrew’s face within seconds, pulling on his arm, trying to drag him to the exit. ‘Let’s just go, let’s just get the hell out of here.’  
  
But with every panicked word,  
Andrew felt calmer.  
  
‘Renee,’ he said, ignoring Aaron. ‘If you’re not going to help, give me one of your spells.’  
  
‘Don’t you fucking ignore me!’ Aaron shouted. ‘Riko is dangerous, Andrew. You can’t go after him, you don’t know the shit he can do. I thought I could keep us safe, but I couldn’t. Let’s just go.’  
  
The new information slowly trickled through Andrew’s thoughts.  
  
‘You thought you could keep us safe.’  
  
‘I thought I was doing the right thing,’ Aaron said. ‘Riko promised me he wouldn’t hurt us.’  
  
A terrible realization dawned on Andrew.  
  
He took a step closer to Aaron. ‘What did you do.’  
  
Aaron let go of his arm, his eyes flickering nervously around the room. And when he tried to hide his phone behind his back,  
Andrew knew.  
  
‘You fucking—’  
  
‘Riko said he wouldn’t hurt us!’ Aaron exclaimed, ‘I only did it to keep us safe!’  
  
Andrew gripped Aaron’s arm and twisted it, so the hand holding the phone was within reach. So Aaron was holding it up like the fucking consolation price it was.  
  
Andrew snatched it away.  
  
It wasn’t hard to find the texts.  
Aaron hadn’t been trying to hide them.  
  
They were there,  
like a diary,  
dozens of texts to Riko Moriyama,  
telling him exactly what Andrew and Neil were up to.  
  
It was how Riko had known about the Firefly festival,  
Nicky’s sleeping pills…  
  
Andrew threw the phone on the ground  
and smashed it with the heel of his boot.  
  
He roughly grabbed the front of Aaron’s shirt. ‘That should’ve been your face,’ he said, then pushed Aaron away before he would really hurt him.  
  
When Andrew turned around, he saw Renee was watching him with apprehensive eyes.  
Not scared.  
Luckily.  
  
‘I don’t like repeating myself,’ Andrew said. ‘Are you going to help? Yes or no.’  
  
Renee looked at him for a few seconds. Then she took a deep breath. ‘Yes. But we’re not going to help him. We’re going to trap him.’  
  
🌑  
  
_Black candles,  
_ _a black thread,  
_ _glass jars,  
_ _salt,  
_ etc.  
  
The list was doable. Renee had said so herself.  
  
‘I can get most of these ingredients today,’ she’d said. ‘Except for this.’  
  
_6 pages from the bible.  
  
_ Because there were no fucking bibles in Black Creek, Georgia.  
  
Andrew searched through the library again,  
and again,  
but no fucking luck.  
  
Either the Moriyamas knew of this spell,  
or they were just so fucking extra that they had destroyed all the bibles.  
  
Fucking witches.  
  
Andrew’s hands itched to use his knives.  
  
After half an hour of spitting through all the shelves in the library,  
Andrew felt like he was completely wasting his time, so he went outside and searched on his phone for the nearest public library.  
  
He already knew the church didn’t have any bibles,  
as Nicky had no… ticed…  
_  
Nicky_.  
  
Nicky was, against all odds, religious.  
He would have a bible.  
  
Andrew turned on his heel and started in the direction of his house,  
his stomach turning as he thought about Nicky.  
  
He was going to help him,  
even if it was the last thing he did.  
  
He was going to help this whole fucking town.  
  
🌑  
  
Stashed in the drawer, next to the condoms, was Nicky’s bible.  
  
How incredible.  
Religion and homosexuality  
in one drawer.  
  
Nicky Hemmick everyone.  
  
Andrew’s phone buzzed just as he reached for the little book.  
  
[Renee]  
We need a waning moon for the spell to be at its strongest. That’s tomorrow night.  
  
**_No_** **.**  
  
[Andrew]  
We can’t wait.  
  
[Renee]  
If the spell goes wrong, we’ll have a big problem.  
  
Andrew’s hands shook,  
the letters on the screen blurring before his eyes.  
  
He barely had any sanity left,  
and now Renee was asking him to have _patience_?  
  
Every minute that passed was another where Nicky could be dead.  
  
Andrew’s nearly punched through his phone as he replied,  
  
[Andrew]  
Fine.  
  
🌑  
  
That evening, Erik forgot to make dinner, so Andrew and Aaron ordered pizzas that no one ate.  
  
That evening, Aaron foolishly tried to talk to Andrew, and only got the hint when Andrew pulled out his knife.  
  
That evening, Andrew stared at the moon from his bedroom window as he listened to Erik’s crying. He didn’t sleep.  
  
🌑  
  
The next day, Neil wasn’t at school.  
  
Andrew technically wasn’t either, because after looking for Neil, he went straight to the library.  
  
Renee’s hair looked unbrushed,  
and the dark circles under her eyes told of a night of non-stop work.  
  
She was sitting on the floor, a totebag stuffed with shit beside her and pages filled with notes around her.  
  
‘Where do you want to do this?’ she asked tiredly.  
  
🌑  
  
Andrew didn’t see any other colours in the cafeteria apart from Riko’s leeching darkness.  
  
He allowed it to suck him in,  
to pull him closer,  
and only stopped himself when he was standing right in front of Riko’s table.  
  
The orphans were staring at him with shocked faces, like they couldn’t believe how stupid Andrew was.  
  
Not stupid.  
Angry.  
Big difference.  
  
‘Hey backstreet boy,’ Andrew said, revelling in Riko’s glare. ‘Catch.’  
  
And he threw the knife hidden in his arm band; watched it tumble through the air until Riko snatched it out of the air.  
  
Riko’s hand was closed around the hilt,  
but no blood welled up from his skin.  
  
‘I see your shield is still up,’ Andrew said. ‘How brave. Did you have to take much from Neil?’  
  
Andrew didn’t like small talk, but provoking was necessary  
and Riko responded beautifully.  
  
‘What do you want, Minyard?’ he asked, the words spilling from his mouth like poison. ‘I don’t recall asking you for a knife.’  
  
‘I have a proposal that might interest you,’ Andrew said. ‘Meet me at the school tonight.’  
  
‘The school? Do you want to make out in the school library like a bunch of fags?’ Riko pulled a face that was somehow even uglier than his normal one. ‘No, thank you.’  
  
Walking away was the right thing to do, Andrew knew that,  
but as he turned his back to Riko and his table full of cowards,  
he couldn’t help but picture vividly what Riko’s face would look like after he’d bashed it against the pavement again and again and again.  
  
Andrew smiled.  
  
🌒  
  
Black Creek high was nothing special during the day  
and it wasn’t anything special at night.  
  
The only difference was that it was colder at night.  
  
Andrew’s breath clouded in front of him as he walked around the dark building towards the library.  
A restless energy was running through him as he opened the double doors,  
and the normally boring smell of old paper  
felt like a promise.  
  
Andrew _would_ get Riko,  
one way or another.  
  
Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long.  
  
Leaning against the counter, Andrew was boredly peeling an orange when he heard the library doors open.  
  
Dressed in full black, as per usual, Riko sauntered up to him.  
He sniffed the air disdainfully.  
  
‘It even smells like forgetting in here,’ he said. His dark eyes settled on Andrew. ‘Which is exactly what’s going to happen to you.’  
  
Andrew forced himself to keep peeling. ‘Haven’t you learned to be careful with your money? Or does your family have a seperate account for hush money?’  
  
‘When you have enough of something, you don’t need to be careful,’ Riko said. A terrible, dark smile slipped on his face. ‘Like orphans.’  
  
Andrew’s control slipped.  
For just a second.  
Orange juice dripped over fingers.  
  
Andrew quickly loosened his grip again, but one quick glance told him Riko had seen.  
_Fuck.  
  
_ ‘Funny that you mention it,’ Andrew said boredly, popping an orange slice in his mouth. ‘I got my hands on something invaluable.’  
  
Riko crossed his arms. ‘And what’s that?’  
  
Without a word, Andrew walked towards one of the aisles,  
paper crinkling underneath his boots.  
  
Because the aisle was absolutely trashed. Books were lying on the floor, pages ripped out and scattered across the aisle.  
  
Andrew knew it wasn’t meant to look like this.  
But Riko didn’t.  
  
After a few seconds, Andrew heard footsteps behind him.  
  
‘Are you gonna show me an old book, is that it?’ Riko scoffed.  
  
‘Patience is a virtue, Riko,’ Andrew said, eyes fixed on the barely visible circle drawn on the floor at the end of the aisle, hidden underneath papers.  
  
They were nearly there.  
Just a few more steps.  
  
‘You forget I don’t have to wait if I choose so.’  
  
Suddenly it felt like Andrew was wading through water,  
with a wild and heavy current that slowed every step he took.  
  
‘Or,’ Riko continued casually, ‘I could make the wait even longer.’  
  
_Fuck_.  
Heart slamming against his ribs, Andrew forced his body to keep moving against the current,  
to take another fucking step.  
And another.  
  
Because they were nearly at the end of the aisle.  
Just a few more steps and Riko would finally stop being so damn confident.  
  
‘Oh, Andrew.’ Riko laughed. ‘Seems like you made the same mistake as Neil.’  
  
Then the water turned to ice,  
and Andrew couldn’t move anymore.  
  
No.  
_No_.  
He had been so fucking close.  
  
Andrew’s feet were standing on the edge of the circle.  
He just needed to step _over_ it,  
and lure Riko over it too.  
_Come on_.  
Just two more steps.  
  
_Fucking fuck_.  
  
‘I’m bored of this,’ Riko said, moving around Andrew. ‘Just tell me and we’ll be done with it.’  
  
Andrew couldn’t  
fucking  
believe  
his luck.  
  
That someone as confident as Riko  
hadn’t expected a trap.  
  
But someone as confident as Riko wanted to look his victim in the eye while monologuing,  
so Riko had moved around Andrew,  
and by doing so had walked straight into the circle, hidden underneath bible pages.  
  
As soon as Riko crossed the lines drawn on the floor,  
Andrew could move again.  
  
Except he didn’t.  
  
‘Fuck you,’ he said through clenched teeth, feigning having trouble moving. ‘How do I know you’re not going to murder me after I tell you?’  
  
‘Hm,’ Riko said. ‘You don’t.’  
  
From the shadows, Renee emerged with a lighter.  
She would need to click it on.  
And Riko would need to not hear.  
  
‘What did you do to Neil?’ Andrew asked loudly. Angrily.  
  
It wasn’t hard to feign anger.  
He was fucking furious.  
  
‘The same as I did to Nicky,’ Riko said. _Click_ said the lighter. ‘Come on, it’s not that hard to figure out. I need energy to do magic, and people have that energy.’  
  
‘So you’re too weak.’  
  
Anger crossed Riko’s face,  
so quickly and fiercely that Riko didn’t notice Renee inching closer to the candles hidden between the books.  
  
‘Oops,’ Andrew said. ‘Is that a sore spot?’  
  
His gaze flickered to Renee,  
who was whispering words to the flame.  
  
‘Don’t worry about my magic,’ Riko said. ‘I have plenty. I had plenty when I took control of Neil, and made him kill Seth.’  
  
_… What?_ _  
_ _Neil had killed Seth?  
  
_ Andrew couldn’t keep the shock out of his eyes, and he hated how Riko noticed.  
  
‘That’s right. I thought you would’ve figured it out by now, Andrew. What the hell would a teenager be doing at a home depot?’  
  
‘Redecorating?’  
  
‘If by redecorating you mean painting over an… unfortunate stain on the floor, then yes, I suppose you’re right.’ Riko smiled. ‘After draining Jack Barfield of every little ounce of energy he possessed, I had enough for the ritual to lure Nicky out of your house. I’d tell you he said hi, but I’m afraid when I left he couldn’t talk anymore.’  
  
_Motherfucker.  
  
_ It was so hard not to push Riko back,  
to punch his face again and again and again until _he_ couldn’t say hi anymore.  
  
‘So yes, Andrew, I really wouldn’t worry about my magic,’ Riko drawled. ‘After draining your cousin, I have _more_ than enough.’  
  
‘Are you sure?’ Andrew asked through clenched teeth, just as Renee blew on the flame  
and six black candles burst into blue flames.  
  
The ones hidden underneath ripped out pages quickly burned through the paper,  
but everything had been placed so the bible pages wouldn’t catch fire.

‘Huh,’ Andrew said, straightening up. ‘Look at that. Looks like magic, doesn’t it?’  
  
Riko’s gaze snapped from candle to candle  
until it finally flickered back to Andrew.  
  
‘You’re going to regret this,’ he threatened.  
  
Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Try me.’  
  
It was nearly better than ice cream  
to watch Riko point a finger at him,  
and then absolutely nothing happend.  
  
It looked fucking ridiculous.  
  
A cruel smile distorted Andrew’s features.  
  
‘Uh-oh,’ he said. ‘And the spell’s not even finished.’  
  
Face twisted with rage, Riko charged.  
  
He didn’t get very far before the circle stopped him,  
his body slamming against an invisible wall that held even when Riko pounded against it.  
  
Andrew took his time unravelling the piece of black thread from his pocket,  
enjoying the look of realisation and horror on Riko’s face.  
  
‘Riko Moriyama, I bind you from hurting others,’ Andrew said slowly, carefully, as he tied a knot in the thread. ‘Riko Moriyama, I bind you from hurting others.’  
  
‘No!’ Riko shouted. ‘Stop! I can give you whatever you want! I can make you forever young or—or I can make your enemies experience the worst pain!’  
  
Yeah, Andrew sure hoped it would fucking hurt.  
  
‘Riko Moriyama,’ he said, and for once he didn’t mind repeating himself, ‘I bind you from hurting others.’  
  
A sudden flash of light  
burst from Riko’s chest.  
  
Andrew briefly shielded his eyes,  
but he didn’t shield his ears against the piercing scream.  
  
Papers flew through the air, and the blue flames of the candles grew bigger and bigger.  
  
Admittedly, it didn’t feel as good as watching the light leave Riko’s eyes,  
but hearing his screams  
and seeing whatever the fuck the light was _burning_ the rotten parts out of Riko’s chest,  
was a decent consolation prize.  
  
🌓  
  
Trees didn’t really look like trees when they flew by so fast.  
  
They were just a green blur,  
a wash of colour,  
an idea.  
  
It didn’t help that rain was hammering down on the car and sliding down the windows. It made everything even more distant. More of an idea than something real.  
  
Music blasted through the speakers,  
and Erik was singing along loudly.  
  
Andrew looked through the rearview mirror at Aaron,  
who had the backseat of the car all to himself.  
  
Aaron was staring out the window.  
  
Andrew wondered if he was watching the trees too.  
Wondered if Aaron thought the last month and a half had been not-real.  
  
Sometimes it felt like that.  
In normal moments like these.  
  
But when the car stopped in front of the Georgia Regional Hospital,  
Andrew couldn’t pretend.  
  
And when they walked through the white hallways and stopped in front of a door that said _Hemmick, Nicky_ ,  
it was impossible to state that Riko Moriyama had been not-real.  
  
Andrew had kept the audio of that night on his phone.  
In case he needed to remind himself.  
  
The pictures and the diary had been enough for an investigation,  
but Riko’s voice saying, ‘ _Don’t worry about my magic. I have plenty_.’  
was the hard evidence needed to put the sick fuck away.  
  
Erik threw the hospital door open and then threw himself at Nicky,  
nearly hitting Nicky in the face with the bouquet of flowers he was holding.  
  
‘Oof,’ Nicky laughed. ‘It’s only been a day since you last saw me.’  
  
‘Doesn’t matter.’ Erik’s voice was muffled, but Andrew could still make out the words. ‘I miss you. _So much_.’  
  
Nicky’s eyes softened. ‘I know,’ he murmured, rubbing Erik’s back.  
  
‘How are you feeling?’ Aaron asked.  
  
He’d been awkward around Nicky for the first couple of visits.  
Probably felt guilty.  
  
He should,  
even though Andrew could now see that in his own, stupid way, Aaron had been trying to help.  
  
‘I’ll feel a lot better if you also give me a hug,’ Nicky smiled, holding out his arms.  
  
Aaron made a point of sighing loudly,  
but he was already moving towards Nicky.  
  
‘Mm, that’s better,’ Nicky laughed. When Aaron leaned back, Nicky peeked around him at Andrew.  
  
_Oh, for fuck’s sake.  
_  
‘No,’ Andrew said.  
  
Nicky pouted. ‘But Andrew… I’ve been _kidnapped_. I’ve been held captive in a dark basement where a cult of evil witches drained my energy.’  
  
‘A crazy teenager with a superiority complex,’ Andrew pointed out.  
  
‘A _basement_.’  
  
Ugh. ‘Fine,’ Andrew said, and reluctantly wrapped his arms around Nicky.  
  
Nicky still felt fragile, and cold.  
  
It had been days,  
but the amount of energy Riko had leeched from Nicky had been too much for Nicky’s body to easily restore.  
  
Andrew, and later Erik, had carried Nicky’s unconscious and tinged-blue body to the car, before driving to the hospital like their lives depended on it.  
  
Maybe they did.  
  
Maybe, in a way, Nicky was their sun,  
and without it,  
they would wither away.  
  
‘I’m gonna take advantage of this,’ Nicky whispered into Andrew’s shoulder.  
  
‘Don’t,’ Andrew warned.  
  
‘I love you,’ Nicky whispered smugly.  
  
Andrew carefully pushed Nicky away. ‘Stop. I know.’  
  
As soon as Andrew leaned away,  
Erik immediately moved into his space, wrapping an arm protectively around Nicky.  
  
‘We can’t wait for you to come home,’ Erik said, kissing Nicky’s cheek. ‘It’s not the same without you.’  
  
Nicky’s smiled shyly. ‘No one poking their nose in your business, right?’  
  
‘More like we’ve been eating McDonalds for _days_ ,’ Aaron complained.  
  
‘Hey! It’s good food,’ Erik exclaimed.  
  
Aaron pulled a face that made Erik and Nicky burst out laughing.  
  
‘You haven’t seriously been eating McDonalds for days, have you?’ Nicky asked, side-eying Erik.  
  
Erik ran a hand through his hair. ‘So what have you been eating, babe?’  
  
‘Oh my god,’ Nicky said, smacking Erik lightly. ‘You can’t be serious.’  
  
While their discussion continued,  
Andrew picked up the flowers Erik brought, hunted for a vase to put them into, then set them next to Nicky’s bed.  
  
‘Hey Andrew,’ Nicky spoke up, head leaning on Erik’s shoulder. ‘If you want, you could take Neil with you next time you visit me.’  
  
‘Why would I want that,’ Andrew asked boredly.  
  
Nicky raised an eyebrow.  
And not-asked Andrew if it was still okay to tell the rest.  
  
Andrew nodded,  
because days ago, he had said it was.  
  
‘I mean,’ Nicky said, ‘he _is_ your boyfriend.’  
  
Erik and Aaron’s heads whipped around.  
  
_Here’s to new beginnings_ , Andrew thought drily.  
  
🌓  
  
Neil was asleep.  
  
His face was pressed into Andrew’s pillow; his hoodie half-up.  
It hid most of the orange,  
but not all.  
  
If Andrew stared at the ceiling,  
he could still see it from the corner of his eye.  
  
But he didn’t want to look at it from the corner of his eye.  
  
Lying on his side,  
arm under his head,  
Andrew watched,  
and memorized.  
  
The length of Neil’s eyelashes, the slant of his lips, the exact shade of his hair.  
The shape of his collarbone, peaking out from underneath Andrew’s hoodie.  
  
And the way it made Andrew feel  
to see Neil in his hoodie.  
  
The feeling was softer now,  
like it was asleep too.  
  
It hadn’t been soft when Andrew had burst into the basement,  
when he'd seen Neil bloodied and broken on the ground, chained to the wall and voice wrecked as he’d asked, _“Andrew?”_  
  
Like he was _surprised_ .  
  
Any doubt Andrew might have had,  
mostly if he could forget Neil had killed someone,  
was gone in an instant.  
  
It didn’t fucking matter, because it hadn’t been Neil.  
  
After forever,  
after a minute,  
Neil murmured, ‘Are you watching me?’  
  
‘Yes,’ Andrew said.  
  
Neil’s mouth curved into a small smile. ‘Why?’  
  
‘Don’t be stupid.’  
  
Neil’s eyes opened,  
and when they met Andrew’s gaze, they softened.  
  
They stared at each other for forever,  
for a minute,  
until Neil reached out and carefully traced a finger over Andrew’s lips.  
  
Andrew allowed it for a while,  
before gripping Neil’s hand and turning it wrist up.  
  
He placed a soft kiss against Neil’s pulse.  
  
‘Is it the cigarettes?’ Neil asked quietly.  
  
_I know you’re addicted to cigarettes,  
_ was what Neil had said.  
  
_Are you addicted to me?_  
was what Neil had not-asked.  
  
Rubbing his thumb against Neil’s pulse,  
Andrew looked at Neil.  
  
He saw the same smugness as when Neil had first made the comparison.  
But there was also something else too.  
  
Insecurity almost looked like fear,  
and even though Andrew didn’t do deals anymore,  
he had promised himself he would never see fear in Neil’s eyes again.  
  
‘No,’ Andrew said. He leaned in, brushing his lips over Neil’s forehead. ‘I can quit the cigarettes.’  
  
He heard the small intake of breath  
when Neil understood,  
so before Neil could say anything, Andrew leaned in and kissed him.  
  
Neil’s hands immediately carded through Andrew’s hair,  
holding him close as he kissed back,  
those maddening small gasps escaping his lips.  
  
And it was  
real.  
  
🌓

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! 
> 
> Ahh I had so much fun writing this new genre with its awesome atmosphere (if I'm allowed to say that??)  
> I really wanted to go for the autumn Halloween-y vibe, and I'm really pleased with the end result. I hope you are too!!
> 
> OKAY. Now it's time to thank people, such as the amazing and super sweet artist [cats-are-assholes](http://cats-are-assholes.tumblr.com/) and the [awesome art](http://cats-are-assholes.tumblr.com/post/183249488164/its-finally-time-for-the-aftgreverse-the) this fic was based upon!! 
> 
> Also a big, big thank you to [Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexjosten) who helped shaped this fic into something more (and who is responsible for quite a few extra scenes)
> 
> And lastly, I'm gonna be super cheesy and say thank YOU, as a reader, for supporting the story and reading it!! ♡♡  
> It's so awesome and motivating to read your responses on the chapters, and I'm so grateful you took the time to tell me ♡  
>   
> Thank you!! 🌙


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